Two Weeks
by MissWitchx
Summary: Tired of Draco's arrogant claims that he can 'get any girl he wants', Daphne proposes a challenge to knock him down a peg or two. However when Draco unexpectedly accepts, the stakes are raised and neither Slytherin wants to lose. Elsewhere, Hermione has her own point to prove, but when she finds her path crossing with Draco's, will either of them succeed? 4th Year A/U *COMPLETE*
1. 11th December

**A/N: **Hi all, I'm back with another Dramione multi-chap (yay!). The general premise for the parings involved in the bet and Daphne's reasons for establishing it were given to me by _Jecht Breaker _as a challenge. Not a plot that has been done before to my knowledge, but I've planned ahead to throw in a couple of tweaks to put a new spin on it and make it original just in case, so I hope you guys enjoy reading. (Unfortunately I own nothing to do with Harry Potter, this is for non-profit etc, etc.)

[[**Updated A/N**]] It is romance/humour but it's not complete fluff - promise! There's some definite angst-y moments later on thrown into the mix, too :)

By the way, do you like the cover image? I drew it myself :D

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**Call His Bluff **

**14 days until the Yule Ball**

The door to the Slytherin common room flew open and slammed shut with an echoing bang, causing many annoyed glances to be shot towards the entrance.

"What's the matter with you, Crabbe?" asked Blaise Zabini, who had looked up from his conversation with Draco Malfoy towards the door. Vincent Crabbe slumped into the room in his usual hunched stance towards his friends. Gregory Goyle accompanied him, and both boys were covered in snow. Their expressions were equally sour.

Crabbe remained silent until he sank ungracefully into the space beside Draco on the bottle-green leather sofa. Goyle perched on the arm of the chair and proceeded to shake snow off his robes, much to Crabbe's annoyance.

"Cut it out you pillock." He growled.

"I ask again: what's the matter with you?" Blaise laughed.

"Just got rejected by about five of them Beauxbaton's girls didn't I?" Crabbe muttered, picking at dirt beneath his fingernails. "Goyle here got shot down too." Draco smirked.

"Beauxbatons? Merlin, Crabbe that lot are way out of your league," he drawled, "Is it really that much of a surprise you had no luck?"

"Leave it out. I just didn't want to go with anyone from Hogwarts: almost all of the girls here look like they were raised in a sewer," replied Crabbe, "what were you two talking about anyway?"

"Ah, well Blaise and I were just discussing which lucky lady is worthy of taking _me _to the Yule Ball as it so happens. I've had at least ten invitations in the past few days." Draco said coolly.

"As if!" Goyle jeered.

"Fine then, don't believe me." The blond shrugged as he lounged against the back of the chair.

"Name every one of them girls then, and I'll believe you," Goyle challenged. Draco's confident exterior wavered slightly, but he recovered.

"One, I hardly think its necessary for me to prove myself to you. I don't particularly care if you believe me or not. Two, I'm afraid I can't oblige that request, I'm not quite sure of all of their names to be honest." At this Goyle decided not to argue but Crabbe persisted.

"Answer this then: were any of the girls from Beauxbatons?"

"Maybe." Draco evaded the question.

"I bet they were all complete dogs," Goyle whispered to Crabbe, laughing.

"_Actually-" _Draco said loudly as he glared up at Goyle, raising an eyebrow. "-There were one or two whom I'd certainly not say no to, under normal circumstances." He drawled.

"Eh?" Blaise asked from Draco's left.

"I was just about to tell you, that is before these two buffoons stormed in," Draco indicated towards Crabbe and Goyle with a jerk of his head as he replied to Blaise. "Come on, this is the Yule Ball, it's a big thing…at least by this school's standards," the others nodded in agreement at this statement, "So I find it a bit...easy to just be handed a date. It takes all the challenge out of it."

"What the hell? It's bloody annoying trying to get someone. And there's more pressure now that the Ball is only two weeks away. I know it's a stupid thing but I don't want to show up dateless," Crabbe growled.

"So what are you going to do, Draco?" Blaise asked. Draco seemed to consider the question for a moment or two.

"I'm not planning on taking any of the girls who already asked me, but the time pressure certainly makes the idea of finding a date myself more interesting." He thought aloud.

"You got anyone in mind?" Goyle piped up.

"Not as such," he admitted, "But I tell you one thing Crabbe, I would certainly be able to get a Beauxbatons girl as a date." Crabbe scoffed at his claim, so Draco decided to turn the screw a little more. "I got _ten_ offers without even trying, I obviously have the charm to pull anyone I want." Draco drawled smugly.

"Oh really?" Came a nearby voice. Daphne Greengrass stared at the boys over the pages of an issue of Witch Weekly. Pansy Parkinson sat in a chair beside her. She was glaring at Draco, making her already pug-like features all the more obvious. "Honestly you lot are pathetic." Daphne continued.

"What's it to you, Greengrass?" Draco raised an eyebrow at her, ignoring Pansy. Daphne promptly closed her magazine, and discarded it in her seat as she stood up and walked over to the fourth-year boys. She tossed her blonde hair and folded her arms as she reached them, the firelight reflecting off her rectangular glasses menacingly.

"Well, Draco, forgive me for listening in to your conversation but I was just wondering how your head could possibly fit into this room. You're such an arrogant tool sometimes," she said, shooting Crabbe a death-glare when she caught him ogling at her chest, "And Merlin, Crabbe it's hardly any wonder you haven't got a date yet. You're just so…_obvious."_

"I could say the same about Pansy over there," Draco nodded his head towards the brunette who was still scowling at him. Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Well you can hardly blame her can you? You've been flirting with her constantly for a year so to her it seemed more than likely that you'd be asking her to the Ball."

Draco laughed. "Oh really? Honestly you girls need to lighten up. The flirting was just good fun and I've told her that on more than one occasion. I'm just keeping my options open that's all."

"Well you could have had the decency to grow some balls and tell her that a date wouldn't be on the cards instead of messing her around like this. This is the problem with you boys: your ego is always the biggest priority and you have the gall to talk about girls like they're toys you can just discard whenever you like. But then you always run away when it comes to facing up to what you've done… or claimed." Daphne had begun her rant angrily and she looked accusingly at each of the boys individually as she spoke. But by the end, her voice had trailed off and she began chewing her lip thoughtfully. She smiled mischievously at Draco, who looked confused.

"What was that about? See _this _is the problem with girls. One minute you're annoyed, the next minute you're smiling." Blaise said, looking equally as bewildered.

"Well Draco, care to put your Galleons where your mouth is?" She replied mysteriously and ignored Blaise.

"Go on." Draco said as he sat forwards. "And I don't run away. The Pansy thing was obviously a misunderstanding."

"As you are oh so confident that you 'have the charm to pull anyone you want' why not follow through with your arrogant claims for once. Prove that you don't 'run away' as you said just now." Daphne stared down at Draco smugly as her proposition prompted a chorus of 'ooooohs' from his friends. He suddenly looked uncomfortable and his smirk quickly faded away.

"So you want me to ask a girl out and get a date for the Ball basically? Easy." He drawled as he thought about what Daphne had just said. She shook her head, still smirking smugly.

"Oh no. You want a challenge don't you? After all you said so yourself that you weren't accepting any invitations because it was 'too easy'." Draco gulped but tried not to let it show. 'I'm going to choose a girl for you, and you will convince her to go to the Ball with you. And just to reinforce proof that you aren't a coward, you will also have to follow through and take her to the Ball. '

"And what's in it for me?" Draco asked.

"Well of course, bragging rights that you actually _can _get any girl."

"Hmm. To be honest Greengrass I've been bragging about that anyway. Plus, this seems awfully one-sided." The signature smirk twisted the boy's pointed features once more.

"Meaning?" Daphne prompted, rolling her eyes at Draco's bravado.

"_Meaning _that I should get a reward for completing this challenge… _if _I were to accept it that is." He winked at her suggestively and Daphne scoffed.

"Provided that I can lay down a couple of ground rules on that front, _and _I can issue a penalty if you fail, then I accept." She shot back.

Draco let out a long breath. "You drive a hard bargain, Greengrass," he said before pausing, and their area of the Common Room fell silent. Blaise's eyes were darting between Daphne and Draco; Crabbe and Goyle on the other hand didn't seem to know what was going on.

"All right, who am I to turn down the opportunity to prove you wrong? Name your terms." Draco said coolly, locking eyes with Daphne.

The blonde witch absent-mindedly removed her glasses and began twirling them between her fingers as she thought. "My terms are thus: One; you must ask a girl of my choosing to the Yule Ball and have her _willingly _agree to be your date," She smirked upon seeing Draco's expression fall at this requirement, "Two; you are to follow through and take her to the Ball, and three; you must spend the _entire _evening with her. Now, as for your reward, -"

"The _whole _evening?!" Draco exclaimed.

"Just a precaution; after all, it's not really a date if you keep making excuses to run away every five minutes." Daphne said coolly as she replaced her glasses.

Blaise elbowed Draco at this point.

"What?" Draco demanded as he rubbed his upper-arm.

"Why are you making such a big deal out of this?" Blaise asked, "what if Daphne chooses the fittest Beauxbaton's girl here? I'm sure you wouldn't mind spending the whole evening with her." He wiggled his eyebrows at Draco, who in turn seemed to grow arrogant once again, smirking and nodding his head as if imagining such a scenario.

Daphne cleared her throat and folded her arms again. "_As I was saying_," She emphasised, growing impatient with the interruptions, "for your reward, you may decide your own prize, which I will give to you; _however, _these can in no way, shape or form, require _any _physical contact between the two of us." She finished, having got the impression of Draco's thoughts when he mentioned the reward earlier.

He ran a hand through his hair and simply nodded, seemingly unperturbed by her conditions.

"Anything else?" He asked, sounding bored.

"Your penalty, should you fail to meet any of the three aforementioned requirements, will be decided by me. As long as that's clear with you then I guess that's everything. So, name your price." She said.

Crabbe and Goyle had seemed to have caught up with the conversation now, and were waiting for Draco's reply, their piggy eyes fixated on him.

"If I complete this challenge, or, well I suppose it's a bet now with the penalties and what-not, I would like… _you _to kiss Potter, on the lips, after the second task of the Tournament, in public." Draco said slowly, as if speaking as the thoughts came to him. A grin spread across his face and he clapped his hands together, feeling very proud of his idea.

Daphne's stomach dropped and she blinked rapidly trying to adjust to his terms. She had been expecting him to want money, want her to do his homework, polish his damn broomstick, _anything _other than what he had actually said.

"Wanting to back out now, Greengrass?" Draco challenged, "Feel free, but that would effectively mean you admitting that I _can _get any girl I want."

There was no way Daphne was letting that happen, so she decided to play it cool, despite her stomach twisting in knots at the unsettling thought of potentially having to kiss Harry Potter in public.

"Please, I never back out. I was just surprised at the angle you decided to play it," she shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

"Well the way I see it, Potter is going to be treated like the bloody hero anyway – provided he survives the task of course – so I may as well make the situation a little more entertaining for myself," he grinned as the other boys nodded approvingly, "Also, I figured that if I have to suffer the pressure of completing this, you should too. It's only fair."

"Okay then. But now, my penalty…" Daphne was mulling over her options. Two could play at this game!

Draco stiffened in his seat; the penalty had completely slipped his mind.

"I think I'll take inspiration from that amazing idea of yours," she gushed mockingly, enjoying the sight of Draco Malfoy's smirk being wiped off his face, "If you fail, you have to make a public declaration of your romantic feelings for the girl I choose. And by 'public', I mean in front of at least ten other students and two professors in a silent setting. That is, _not _during a Quidditch match where you wouldn't be heard. And by 'romantic feelings', I mean undying love."

Draco gulped. This was bad. This would potentially be humiliating: he was a Malfoy after all, girls were supposed to be making sad, desperate speeches vying for _his _affections, not the other way around. Then again, thinking about what Blaise had said, it wouldn't be so bad if it were a Beauxbatons girl. At least then there was a chance that he would _mean _the words, or better yet, she wouldn't have a damn clue what he was saying.

"Well?" Daphne prompted as she adjusted her glasses.

"Scratch the 'undying love' part and you have a deal. Romantic feelings can still be a requirement though." He bargained, stretching out his hand.

"In that case, I think a bigger audience would be needed." Daphne shot back.

"Fine, romantic feelings only, two professors and twenty students."

"_Three _professors and twenty students."

"Deal… _if _you tell me the name of the girl now. And no changing your mind after you give me a name." Draco said.

Daphne scoffed. "I'm not stupid, Draco. If I did that then you could back out before we've even made this official. You can't always have _everything _you want."

Draco glowered at her. He made a mental note to never push this girl's buttons again after this.

"So, if I go back down to your proposal of two professors and twenty students to witness your penalty declaration, I will tell you the girl's name _after _we put the binding spell in place. Take it or leave it."

"Binding spell?" Blaise spluttered in disbelief. The clash of Daphne and Draco's egos was escalating rapidly and he was having trouble keeping up.

"Yeah, to add an extra unknown penalty threat should either of us not follow through with the one's we have just discussed. I've a friend in sixth year who knows how to perform it." She tossed her blonde hair and put her hands on her hips.

"What exactly will this spell do?" Draco asked.

"It's random, so no one, even the caster, would have any control. Whatever it is would be something worse than the existing penalties though, so it's just a precaution to ensure both parties of a bet or wager will follow it through."

"Merlin, you always remind me of Granger when you go all book-ish like that," Blaise said, shuddering.

Daphne opened her mouth to retort but Blaise's words made her mind begin to race excitedly.

"Do we have a deal, Draco?" She stepped forwards and took hold of his hand, pretending that she hadn't heard Blaise's comment.

His grey eyes studied her suspiciously for a moment, and the eyes of Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise, fell on him. He sighed and shook Daphne's hand, nodding stiffly.

"Right; now let's get this binding spell over with so you can finally tell me who the lucky lady is." He drawled nonchalantly.

Daphne nodded and departed to the girl's dormitories, returning quickly with a tall girl who Draco recognised as a Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

The girl performed the spell and left just as swiftly as she had arrived, and all eyes remained on the doorway to the dormitories when they heard a short shriek from nearby and saw Pansy flouncing angrily through the girl's entrance shortly afterwards. The door slammed with a bang and the sound peeled off the walls.

Daphne winced; there was no way Pansy was going to be forgiving her any time soon. Why did she have to get so caught up in this? All she wanted to do was call Draco's bluff and knock him down a peg or two.

Blaise let out a long breath and laughed humourlessly. "It's ironic that this whole thing started from you defending her because you thought Draco was leading her on."

"Yes thanks for that little observation, Zabini." Daphne snapped.

"It's a fair point though," said Blaise, holding his hands up, "seriously that was a smart move; defend her one second and persuading the boy she fancies to go on a date with someone else the next."

Draco smirked at his friend's comment, enjoying Daphne's slip up.

"Look, can we just get on with this? We've already put the spell in place so we have to follow through." Daphne huffed.

"Or you can just forfeit, deal with the mystery consequence and beg for Pansy's forgiveness." Draco replied smugly.

"Pansy's going to be pissed at me either way, Malfoy; we continue." She said.

"Have it your way. So, who is it going to be?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

Daphne fiddled with the earpieces of her glasses as she thought: there was no way Pansy would forgive her if she actually _did _set Draco up with a Beauxbatons girl, so she had to think of someone that Draco could in no way, ever be attracted to. Blaise's earlier comment floated to the front of her mind once again and she grinned. This idea was genius: now it was a win-win; Pansy couldn't be too mad and if Draco lost it would be joy instead of jealously that Pansy would feel, not to mention that Daphne wouldn't have to kiss Potter.

"I choose…Granger."

"What?" Draco's eyes widened in disbelief and the other boys simultaneously snorted with laughter.

"I see what you did there, Greengrass. Smart girl." Blaise laughed, clapping his hands.

"Why thank you, Zabini." Daphne smiled at him, taking a bow.

"You sneaky little-" Draco began.

"Forfeit if you want, Malfoy. Just remember the consequence will be _worse _than having to publically disclose your romantic feelings for Granger, _and _you'll be admitting that you can't get any girl. It's not my fault that to you 'any girl' seems to mean 'any attractive girl.' "

Draco clenched his fists and scowled at Daphne through his white-blond fringe. It took a moment or two for him to compose himself, but he did, and soon he was lounging back once again as calm as ever.

"Okay Greengrass, you got me there. _But, _there is no way I'm backing down. I intend to prove to you that I have the superior pulling abilities that can get even Granger to agree to go to the Ball with me." He drawled calmly.

"I'd like to see you try."

'Oh you will; then you will see me succeed, and more importantly, after that _I'll_ see _you _lock lips with Scarhead.'

With that, Draco rose from the sofa, drew his back straight and sauntered towards the boy's dormitories, cool and collected on the outside, but filled with dread, disgust and panic on the inside at the thought of having to effectively go on a date with Hermione Granger… that is, if she even agreed to go with him.

He threw himself onto his bed and groaned, sincerely hoping that his parents would never find out about this.

_To be continued..._

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**A/N: **Thank you all for reading, you're awesome. Please review on your way out :)


	2. 12th December (Part 1)

**A/N: **Thank you all so much everyone who has reviewed etc so far, it means a lot. I hope you all enjoy the next part. (I own nothing)

_Consulting-Prussian_ \- I appreciate your constructive feedback, and thank you. I suppose using ' instead of " is more convenient as a writer, but I've gone back and changed the speech marks if it will make things easier for readers :)

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**The Icebreaker **

**13 days until the Yule Ball - Part 1 **

"Pansy, talk to me." Daphne said, grabbing her friend's arm as they emerged from the Great Hall after breakfast.

Pansy stopped walking but she didn't face her. Daphne tried not to roll her eyes; this girl could talk and bitch for England and yet she chose now to give her the silent treatment. Daphne had tried countless times to tell her exactly what she was planning and who she had set Draco up with the previous night, but Pansy would just sulk and stick her fingers in her ears or threaten to hex her.

"Look, just let me tell you who the girl is and you'll feel much better about everything. The situation still wouldn't be great for you and I'm sorry, but –"

"Save it Greengrass," Pansy said, still with her back to Daphne. "Just the fact that you even suggested this bet in the first place – "

"Was stupid, I know. But I just wanted to challenge Draco: he's all talk and no walk, we both know that."

"And yet, I feel like it's _you _who should be punished. You know how I like Draco." Pansy said, finally meeting her gaze.

"Pansy were you not listening to what he was saying last night? He doesn't like you like that and never has done. Can you really blame me for wanting to call him out on his bullshit?"

Pansy's shoulders slumped and Daphne knew that meant her words had hit home. She smiled tentatively at the brunette but Pansy's eyes hardened once again.

"The point is that you could have at least consulted me before acting without thinking." She muttered, her stubborn side coming into play. "You know what: I hope you _do _have to kiss Potter." She smirked unattractively and marched off with her nose in the air.

Daphne didn't know what to say: she remained stood in the Entrance Hall staring blankly after Pansy. She sighed and adjusted her glasses, preparing to set off for Charms when someone bumped into her.

"Hey watch where you're going." She snapped, whirling around to face the other. Her stomach twisted when she came face-to-face with none other than Harry bloody Potter.

Great; as if her morning wasn't bad enough.

"Oh er, sorry." He mumbled awkwardly. Merlin - why everyone was idolising this bumbling twerp was beyond her.

An insult was just on the tip of Daphne's tongue when she stopped herself, thinking about what Pansy had said. What if she actually did have to kiss him? She couldn't very well do that out of the blue after weeks of insulting him.

"Don't worry about it; it was probably an accident. Just watch where you're going next time, Potter." She did her best to remove the venom behind her words and plastered a smile on her face.

Potter's eyes widened in surprise behind his glasses and he ran a hand through his already untidy hair.

"Er yeah, sure… okay." He said uncertainly, as he turned to walk away, staring at Daphne with a confused expression for a second or two longer.

Daphne rolled her eyes and proceeded to climb the staircase after him. As she reached the Charms classroom, she was unsurprised to see that Pansy wasn't in line, she was instead, presumably sitting in the common room sulking like she usually did when someone ticked her off.

Shortly after taking note of Pansy's absence, Daphne received reason number three for 'why this was a crappy morning': Draco was talking to Granger and she was…smiling.

Merlin, could her day get any worse?

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**Meanwhile…**

"Hey Harry, what happened? I thought you were right behind us," called Hermione from the line outside the Charms classroom.

"Let me guess; you were bombarded by the Slytherins and their stupid badges?" Ron said as he scowled towards the approaching group, "speaking of the snakes, here comes Zabini, the ferret and his pet trolls now."

"Something like that." Said Harry vaguely. He began scratching his head, his mind still unable to process the unusual encounter he had just had with Daphne.

Ron and Hermione, however didn't seem to hear him as Malfoy's voice soon cut through the air nearby.

"What's that Weaslebee?" He demanded in a surly tone.

Ron's ears turned red as it registered that Malfoy had heard his comments. He shuffled on the spot and cleared his throat, but Hermione rolled her eyes and confronted the blond before her friend could.

"What's it to you?" she asked coolly. She was rather bemused to see Malfoy hesitate when his eyes met hers. The unattractive sneer he had been sporting vanished in an instant, and Hermione furrowed her brows. No sooner had she realised this, it appeared once more and he parted his lips to speak, but Professor Flitwick, accompanied by Professor Moody, appeared at the doorway and cut him off.

"Potter, can I speak to you for a moment?" Flitwick squeaked.

Hermione watched Harry and Ron exchange confused glances. Harry looked questioningly at the Defence Professor, who gave a sharp nod. His magical eye was fixated on someone behind Hermione, whom she could only presume was Malfoy.

The small gesture seemed to be enough to relax Harry; he shrugged and followed Professor Flitwick into the room. Moody glanced briefly at Hermione and Ron, before turning on his heel and marching down the corridor.

"That man's mental. I mean, yeah he knows his stuff about defence but he scares me." Ron whispered as Moody's heavy footsteps faded away.

"Ron you don't have to whisper; he has a magical eye not ear." Hermione giggled.

"You can never be too careful. You can't trust anyone these days."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, and Ron spoke again.

"Actually I might go in there too before class starts; I've got questions about the homework we've been set."

"All we have to do is read three books on summoning charms." Hermione laughed.

"Yeah but, what if there's a test or something? I'm going to ask Flitwick."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"There's no point reading them if we aren't going to have a test on it." Ron shrugged before making a quick get-away into the classroom from Hermione, who had a haughty reply on the tip of her tongue. She smiled after him and shook her head, but soon became very aware that someone was watching her.

Sure enough as she turned on the spot, she saw Malfoy with his eyes fixated on her through his fringe. His face was relaxed, a rare sight indeed as Hermione was used to seeing him with an arrogant smirk or sneer plastered across his features. He had his hands in his pockets and his head tilted to one side, his brows furrowed too as though in deep thought.

Hermione realised that she had been staring but it felt strange being under Malfoy's observation like this; it was a different kind of scrutiny that she wasn't used to, and quite frankly she wasn't a hundred per-cent sure she liked it. It made her feel uncomfortable. She felt like she was a goldfish in its bowl.

"What?" she said finally. There was no malice in her tone as it had been overpowered by curiosity.

"Your teeth." He stated plainly.

"Oh ha-ha," Hermione said sarcastically, suddenly feeling defensive, "evaluating me are you? Wondering what kind of hex to use on me next?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Malfoy scoffed arrogantly, "I _was _aiming for Potter. But if you feel the need to have first-hand experience of one of my exquisitely executed hexes then I'd be willing to oblige."

Hermione bristled and rolled her eyes. _Godric, did this boy have a modest bone in his body?_

"Please, I've seen more advanced offensive spells being used by second years."

"Maybe so, but you can't argue with its effectiveness." Malfoy drawled, raising an eyebrow mockingly at her.

Only Draco Malfoy could brush off an insult with such composure and still turn it into a compliment.

"Do you actually have a point here?" Demanded Hermione.

"I _did, _before you started jumping to conclusions. Your teeth just look different."

"Obviously, I couldn't exactly waltz around the castle with those abominations you gave to me." Hermione muttered bitterly.

Malfoy briefly scrutinised her once more. "Even so, something's changed from how they were originally."

Hermione was taken aback. It amazed her how Malfoy of all people noticed the alterations she had made before either of her two best friends did. She felt herself blush a little at this realisation and smiled at the floor, but she quickly tried to snap herself out of it.

"Yes actually, I er, may have asked Madam Pomfrey to shrink them more than was necessary." She said, not quite believing that she was having a relatively civil conversation with the bigoted Draco Malfoy.

"Wow Granger; manipulating a situation to get what you want? That was rather Slytherin of you, especially for a Mud-" His eyes widened and he began chewing his lip to prevent himself from saying the word. Hermione was stunned; since when did Malfoy have a problem with calling her a Mudblood?

"Sorry." Malfoy mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"Sorry?" Hermione repeated in the form of a question; her voice was almost shrill with shock.

Malfoy arched an eyebrow at her response and Hermione clocked a brief twitch in the corner of his mouth that gave away his amusement. If she hadn't seen this however, there would have been no indication as to what he was thinking.

"About your teeth."

"About my-? Oh! Right." Hermione babbled. She ran a hand through her hair, flustered at her wild presumptions. She had initially drawn the conclusion that he was apologising for almost calling her the M-word. But obviously that was stupid since he had called her that too many times to count over the years.

_I think the more important point here is that Draco Malfoy apologised to _you_, never mind _why! Her mind was racing.

"Like I said, it was an accident." Malfoy's drawl interrupted her thoughts.

"Oh, right." Hermione repeated, at a loss as to what else she could say. She stared at the floor awkwardly.

It wasn't entirely implausible for this whole thing to be an act to get himself off the hook for hexing her; it was now a well-known fact that the Slytherins had been extra cautious around Professor Moody since the 'ferret incident'. Ron's statement about not being able to trust anyone anymore was still at the front of Hermione's mind, and this _was _still Malfoy after all.

In spite of this, Hermione found herself hoping that this wasn't the case – she wanted to see the good in people.

This slight change to his attitude was completely throwing her off balance. She had established a default attitude and persona for encounters with the snarky blond, but this circumstance was different, and she had no idea how to handle it. It made her feel like she did at their first flying lesson; up until that point she had become accustomed to being the smartest and most capable in the class, but being out-performed where brooms were concerned made her feel insecure and useless.

Hermione smiled at him slightly, finally chancing meeting his stony gaze, but he was no longer looking at her. His attention was fixed on the corridor where a set of footsteps was approaching. Malfoy's jaw was tensed, emphasising his pronounced cheekbones and hardened eyes, looking very much like the boy Hermione knew him to be.

She turned her head and her eyes fell upon Daphne Greengrass, who too looked decidedly on-edge. Daphne's brown eyes were darting between Malfoy and herself; however her expression was not hostile, as Hermione would have expected it to be. The Slytherin girl looked almost worried, or uneasy at the very least.

A moment later a chorus of snickering rang out somewhere nearby, and Hermione turned in the opposite direction, getting whiplash on her neck from her hair in the process. The sound had come from Crabbe and Goyle, and Blaise Zabini was shooting them both death-glares.

Malfoy seemed to have heard too. He turned to face her again, his expression still hard.

"I'd say this has been a pleasure but frankly that would be a lie so I won't bother. See you around, Mudblood." He sneered at her, though the expression was lacking the usual malice that lingered within his eyes.

Before she could respond Malfoy had already spun on his heel and was walking over to the Slytherin boys, closely followed by Daphne. Hermione just stared after them. _What the bloody hell is going on with them, today? _She thought.

* * *

"You know, there is such a thing as 'subtlety', you cretins," Draco hissed across the table at Crabbe and Goyle, who were still smirking in amusement.

"It's just so bloody brilliant, what Greengrass has got you to do," Crabbe said.

Draco scowled; he knew this wasn't going to be easy under the best circumstances, but of course he had to be placed in the same house as the brainless buffoons.

"I can't believe you actually _apologised _to her." Goyle chimed in.

A couple of seats away, Draco heard Daphne snort.

"It was part of my plan, actually, you idiots. As if I'd willingly lower myself in such a way if it weren't for this bet. _And _it was working, no thanks to you three and Greengrass here ogling us and making a spectacle of the whole thing. I had to bloody call her a Mudblood just to make the whole thing a little more genuine. Talk about one step forward, two steps back."

Silence fell around them, and Draco rolled his eyes. _Hmm. Maybe they actually have the decency to feel a little guilty about sabotaging my attempt at an icebreaker._

"Oi, Draco. Your girlfriend's staring at us. She looks well supsishus."

"Did you mean 'suspicious', Goyle?" Blaise laughed.

"Yeah that's the one. You got your work cut out for you now, Malfoy."

_No. No, of course they don't feel guilty. They're bloody enjoying this. _Draco made a mental note to hex Crabbe and Goyle at a more appropriate time, and looked over to the other side of the room. Sure enough, Granger was tapping her wand absently on the table and staring at them, frowning slightly.

He sighed. What the bloody hell was he going to do now? He had been awake most of the night trying to think of some sort of tactic to talk to Granger without overdoing it and apologising to her seemed the most convincing way to go about it. Every other idea would have been too obvious and aroused her suspicions and thanks to his useless friends, he needn't have bothered being tactical… he was in no better position than he would be if he just asked her out there on the spot.

And knowing how meddlesome Granger could be, Draco knew that now she was suspicious, she wouldn't drop it until she found out what they were up to.

_Trust Greengrass to set me up with the most infuriating witch in the whole bloody school. It would be easier to get a 'yes' from McGonagall at this rate. _Draco thought as he attempted to clear his mind to summon Crabbe's quill from out of his hand, but to no avail.

His mind was whirring with questions that had no answers. Even when he wasn't talking to Granger, she was giving him a headache.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**A/N: **Coming up... Hermione's challenge. Just a heads-up, there's quite a few characters involved in this so bear with me over the next couple of chapters so I can establish their point's of view etc.

Thanks for reading, if you can leave me a review then that would make me happy!


	3. 12th December (Part 2)

**A/N: **Harry Potter belongs to JKR / Warner Bros etc etc. Thank you everyone who has reviewed and followed this story so far, your support is awesome!

* * *

**To Kiss Or Not To Kiss?**

**13 days until the Yule Ball - Part 2**

"Getting a lot of homework are we?" Ginny laughed as she eyed the stack of books Hermione had plonked down onto the table.

"No, I'm trying to do some research for Harry since he's been avoiding trying to find out what that bloody egg means," she replied haughtily, feeling annoyed about her friend's sheer lack of responsibility, "_and, _Flitwick wants him to practice more charms that could be useful in the later tasks, so of course Harry asked me to tutor him."

"Cheer up Hermione, it's Christmas soon." Ginny smiled.

"I will not cheer up: the task is in February and for all we know it could take weeks to prepare for." Hermione said, becoming flustered.

She aggressively flipped the pages of the books she had picked out, becoming more and more anxious by the second.

"Hermione?"

"What?"

"This isn't just about the egg and a couple of hours tuition, is it?"

Hermione sighed at Ginny's perceptiveness and let out a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

"No it's not." She conceded, shutting the book and leaning forwards on top of it. She watched Ginny sit down opposite her before continuing, "I need a date to the Ball."

"Merlin, Hermione is that it? At least you can actually go to the Ball anyway; I'm in third year so I can't go unless I have a date," Ginny pulled a face out of disappointment, "besides, since when did you start caring about having a date or not?"

"Trust me, I don't care." Hermione snorted.

Ginny frowned. "So what's the problem?"

"Long story short, I had a point to prove to Ronald so I may have sort of, told him I already have a date." Hermione smiled weakly as Ginny began to chuckle.

"Oh Mione, you didn't."

"I did." Hermione said.

"Well personally I don't see why you're worrying; you and I both know you have an admirer." She said, wiggling her eyebrows and jerking her head towards the shelves of the Restricted Section of the library, where Viktor Krum was browsing.

"He appreciates fine literature, that doesn't mean anything." Hermione dismissed.

"I wouldn't class _Quidditch &amp; The Dark Arts_ as fine literature, Hermione." Ginny said, squinting to read the title of the book Viktor was reading.

"I suppose, but-"

"But nothing! You're the one who pointed out that he's always here whenever you are, and I've seen him staring at you at mealtimes. He likes you, you should ask him to the Ball."

Hermione smiled at Ginny's fiery nature, but she couldn't seem to stop her mouth from protesting. "And aren't _you _the one who pointed out that he has a certain reputation of being a player both on and off the pitch according to _Seeker &amp; Snitch?" _

"I only buy that trash for the topless posters of the players," Ginny said bluntly, "that was just girly gossip when I told you. How was I supposed to know he'd end up staying at our school?"

Hermione couldn't find any more reason to argue and began to chew her lip nervously.

"Is there more to it than Viktor's supposed 'reputation'?" Ginny asked, apparently picking up on Hermione's uncertainty.

Hermione nodded and began playing with a strand of curly hair.

"It's kind of embarrassing but, well I wouldn't know the first thing to say to him if I was going to ask him; that's totally out of my comfort zone. I've never actually been on a date before."

"So you just hang around him; flirt a little bit; drop hints. He'll get the idea eventually and be the one to ask you instead." Ginny smiled. It totally baffled Hermione how a girl in the year below was so quick in providing a solution.

"Flirt? This is _me _we're talking about, Gin. Besides there's more."

"What is it?"

"The girls in my dorm were comparing notes on what the best lip-gloss is to use for kissing. Some of them reckon they'll get a kiss goodnight at the end of the Ball, and now I'm thinking, what if I ask Viktor to the Ball and he wants to kiss me? I wouldn't have the first clue about what to do."

"Hermione, are you saying you've never kissed anyone before?"

"Yeah," Hermione said quietly. "I feel so childish saying that, especially because I'm fifteen, the oldest in my year. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a prude: I've been attracted to boys before and had crushes but I've just never liked anyone enough, or rather, my crushes were never reciprocated so kissing was out of the question anyway," she said, flushing.

"Hermione, I know what you're thinking: Viktor is older and will be more experienced but you don't have to kiss him if you don't want to. More to the point, he doesn't strike me as the shallow type who would hold it against you because you've never kissed anyone before."

Ginny's words would have comforted Hermione immensely, had it not been for the cackle of laughter that rang out in the corridor outside the library as she finished speaking. Hermione groaned and felt blood rush to her cheeks as Pansy Parkinson emerged at the entrance, leaning against the archway and clutching her stomach.

"That's rich Granger. 'I've just never liked anyone enough': yeah right."

"What do you want?" Hermione snapped, willing herself to stop blushing in front of Pug-Face Parkinson.

"We both know the _real _reason you've never been kissed." Pansy mocked.

"Meaning?"

"Simple: no one would willingly kiss a dirty, frumpy Mudblood know-it-all like you."

Hermione growled and reached for her wand but Ginny stopped her from drawing it from her pocket, giving her a look that said 'it's not worth it'. She was right but Hermione thought docked house points would be worth it to see Pansy on the receiving end of a pimple jinx.

"Need your ginger Blood Traitor friend to hold your hand? That's sweet." Pansy quipped, laughing at Ginny.

"You want to take that back?" Ginny challenged in a low voice, trying not to alert Madam Pince.

Ginny had risen from her chair now and had her brown eyes fixated on the Slytherin girl, who didn't seem in the least bit perturbed by her reaction.

"A prude Mudblood and her Blood Traitor friend; both date-less to the Ball I'm assuming." She raised an eyebrow and began cackling again when the two Gryffindors shared a look. "Don't feel too bad, it would be a miracle for a guy to want to ask either of you, unless of course there are no other options."

Hermione was holding on to her wand so tightly now that she was sure her knuckles were white. Pansy had gone too far with her last comment; Hermione would never admit it but she had hit a nerve. After all, that was precisely the reason she had told her friends she already had a date.

"Why do you care about my personal life, Parkinson?" Hermione hissed.

Pansy scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself; I don't care. Just getting all the details before I can have a good gossip with the other Slytherins later. Then we can all put money on how long it will take for Granger to get a kiss. My bet: never."

"You snake. Hermione is perfectly capable of getting a kiss, and we are both capable of getting dates." Ginny spat.

"Of course you are," Pansy said sarcastically, "you two are boring me now, see you in class Granger." And with that she turned and stepped out of sight.

"I'm going to kill her." Ginny said, beginning to make for the door. Hermione pulled her back; giving her the same look Ginny had given her earlier. The redhead took a deep breath and slumped down on the chair again.

"She's not worth it." Hermione said, though her blood was boiling.

"You can't let her get away with that, Hermione. She's going to make your life a misery because of this."

"She does that anyway, Ginny." Hermione shrugged.

"So? Don't give her more ammunition. You need to do something." Ginny urged, clearly still fired up from their encounter with Pansy.

"What_ can_ I do?" Hermione asked helplessly, the anger draining out of her.

"Prove her wrong. We both will. You have to get a date anyway because of what you told Harry and Ron, but other than that we both have one thing to prove."

"She's not worth the effort of having to prove myself."

"But think how good it would feel to put her in her place. You'd finally have the upper-hand." Ginny said, and slowly temptation began to worm its way in to Hermione's mind. She couldn't care less of what Pansy Parkinson thought of her, but she didn't think she could ignore the embarrassment if the Slytherins decided to tell the whole school that she hadn't kissed anyone before. Plus, imagining the disbelief across Pansy's face if she proved her wrong was a promising incentive.

"Where are you going with this?" She asked slowly.

"I know how reluctant you are, Hermione, but I don't want to see her make a fool out of you all the time. It's time for her to get a taste of her own medicine," Ginny said, ever the blunt one, "I for one, plan on wiping that smirk off her face, so I'm going to get a date. _If _I'm successful, you have to get a kiss off your date during the Ball so Parkinson will see."

Hermione remained silent. She wasn't going to lie: she was seriously tempted, and truthfully she'd rather get her first kiss out of the way so she could stop worrying about it.

"I'm in," Ginny's face lit up and Hermione giggled. Yes she was nervous about having to kiss her date when there would be an audience, but the look on Pansy's face would undoubtedly be worth it. A few seconds of embarrassment to make that happen seemed a better option than potentially years of embarrassment for not doing it.

"So, are you going to ask Viktor then?"

"I don't know…" said Hermione. Now that her agreement with Ginny was in place, she was going off the idea of asking Viktor. Ginny may have said that the gossip about his reputation was rubbish, but there was still a seed of doubt in her mind that her friend had been lying to persuade her to ask him. The last thing she wanted to do was kiss him and then find him locking lips with someone else an hour later. "I'm just doubting things a bit, that's all."

"He's not going to reject you Hermione, you're really pretty," Ginny assured her, getting the wrong end of the stick, "nice teeth by the way," she commented as an afterthought.

"Thanks," Hermione said, absent-mindedly bringing her fingers to her mouth, "Harry and Ron haven't actually noticed yet."

Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione's latter comment and smirked. "I suppose Malfoy did you a favour there when he hexed you."

"Yeah, ironically." Hermione agreed. "Now you mention it, you wouldn't believe what happened first lesson."

"I'm listening."

"Malfoy actually apologised to me for it, in front of his friends. He was still touchy and arrogant as always, but he did say sorry and seem to mean it. Well, he did call me Mudblood when he walked away but you can't have everything can you?"

Hermione played back the memory of the encounter in her head as she told Ginny, still not totally convinced she hadn't imagined it.

Ginny's mouth was hanging open. "Malfoy said that? Are you serious?"

Hermione nodded. "Godric knows what possessed him to do it, but something's going on with the Slytherins, first Malfoy, then Harry told me that Daphne Greengrass was somewhat civil to him before class started."

"Maybe they're trying to turn over a new leaf." Ginny thought aloud. "Do you know if he has a date yet…?"

"Oh Ginny, you aren't seriously considering going to the Ball with him are you?"

"Godric no, I can do much better than a ferret," Ginny smirked, "I was just thinking 'hmm who would annoy Pansy the most?'"

Hermione laughed and opened one of the books, trying to resume her research. "To be honest it would most likely be Pansy he'll be taking anyway, she's been fawning all over him for months."

"Shame," said Ginny, "So, tell me, how many of the fourth year boys are still available?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione laughed and glanced at the clock; lunch was nearly over. She opened her mouth to tell Ginny when she heard what sounded like footsteps running down the corridor that was adjacent to the library.

"What Hermione?"

"I thought I just saw… oh forget it, we've got to go now. I don't want to arrive late to Defence."

"Ugh you have Moody now? Good luck," said Ginny, "I've got Transfiguration. I'll see you later."

Hermione waved her friend goodbye and began to walk in the opposite direction. Sure enough, she saw the figure of Pansy Parkinson turning the corner at the end of the corridor.

* * *

Pansy had of course been eavesdropping, like any true Slytherin would. At first she had just lingered to see if Granger would spill any more secrets, but instead she had heard their feebly optimistic discussion about proving her wrong. Pfft. As if they could.

After that Pansy had turned to leave, that is, until she heard Draco's name crop up in their conversation. Why would Draco apologise _civilly _to that Mudblood completely out of the blue? Answer: Daphne had chosen Granger as Draco's date for their bet.

As this thought first crossed her mind, Pansy was overcome with a wave of fury and jealousy, especially when she heard the Gryffindors talking about Granger kissing her date right in front of her. The mental image alone was enough to make Pansy hex a second-year Ravenclaw out of rage, and she wondered why Daphne had thought it to be a good selection.

It then dawned on her that Draco was only proving a point; him asking Granger out didn't mean anything. He hated her guts. In that case, Granger would move in for a kiss and get rejected in front of everyone. Pansy much preferred this thought, and would certainly love to turn Granger's ploy back around on her. Maybe she should thank Daphne after all.

Pansy's thoughts kept going back and forth: she honestly didn't know what to think about this bet, or indeed, whose side she should take, for both scenarios had its perks.

Eventually Pansy came to the conclusion that Daphne deserved to receive the penalty over Draco: mainly because she had established the bet without considering her. Yes, she did redeem herself by choosing Granger, but a best friend's betrayal was twice as bad as rejection from a boy, no matter how good looking he was.

There was no way Pansy was going to let Draco lose this bet: it could kill two birds with one stone, the birds being Daphne losing and Granger potentially putting herself up for a fall. That would teach that Mudblood for planning to make a fool of her.

She relished the excitement of the endless possibilities, but it was short-lived when she remembered that Granger too, hated Draco. She would never want to kiss him.

This fact could prove a slight problem in Pansy's scheming.

* * *

Hermione was distracted in her Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson to say the least. Pansy Parkinson kept sneering at her, which wasn't anything new but something about her demeanour seemed different. There seemed to be a humorous and almost mocking smirk at times that usually wasn't there. It was the kind of look that she saw on Draco Malfoy's face back in first year when he challenged Harry to a duel - he hadn't shown up and consequently almost got them into trouble with Filch and almost killed by Fluffy the three-headed dog.

Simply put, the expression on Pansy's face was what Hermione recognised as the 'Scheming Slytherin Sneer'.

Hermione decided that whatever she was plotting, it wasn't going to cause her as much stress as this whole finding a date business was, although looking at Pansy generally made her mind travel back to their earlier encounter, which again made her train of thought circle back around to the bloody Yule Ball.

Topping it all off, Harry and Ron were having a conversation beside her about finding dates themselves. On the one hand Hermione was a little annoyed that her best friends were the two people she could not vent to about her problems, thanks to her big mouth that claimed she already had a date; but on the other she felt a little more confident knowing that she wasn't the only one struggling.

Daphne, too, had her mind on everything _but _the lesson. She had been watching Pansy as well, and was a little confused as to why she was suddenly attempting to provoke Granger much more than she usually did. It never occurred to Daphne that perhaps she had figured out that Granger was the 'target' – for lack of a better word – for the bet: Pansy wasn't the sharpest quill in the pot after all.

At least, it didn't click in Daphne's brain until she locked eyes with Pansy, and a knowing smirk spread across her thin lips. Daphne felt somewhat relieved that her friend now knew, but she was a little perturbed at her expression. That was Pansy's I'm-plotting-revenge expression.

"Miss Granger?"

Professor Moody's gruff voice echoed through the room, and both Hermione and Daphne jumped as their minds were brought back to reality. Hermione dropped her wand to the floor in the process, and several snickers rang out. She blushed and bent to pick up her wand, but someone else had beaten her to it, for long fingers were already wrapped around her wand and a pale hand was lifting it back up to her. Hermione spotted the polished black shoes that belonged to the hand's owner, and immediately knew it was Malfoy.

For the briefest second, Hermione's fingertips touched his, and she recoiled at the unexpected contact. Hermione rubbed her fingers with her other hand as Malfoy drew himself to his full height. She hadn't expected him to have such warm skin considering how cold his exterior could be.

His expression was unreadable but calm as he placed her wand back onto her desk. She gaped up at him. She was at a loss for words, as was the rest of the room, including Professor Moody, who was staring at them with both his real and magical eye.

"I believe the words you are looking for are 'thank you'." Malfoy said, a superior air about him as he looked down at her.

"Er yes. Thanks." Hermione said. She couldn't even seem to find it in her to make a witty comeback or roll her eyes, for her brain hadn't yet managed to process his strange behaviour.

Malfoy nodded at her and his lips twitched upwards slightly before he sauntered back towards his seat.

"At least this time I managed to stun you oafs into silence," Draco said quietly as he addressed Crabbe and Goyle's dumbfounded expressions, "good job I can think on my feet."

Draco felt relieved that he had somewhat managed to salvage Crabbe and Goyle's earlier slip-up. Now all he had to worry about was maintaining the façade, which would be easier said than done.

For the remainder of the lesson, Draco found himself absent-mindedly touching the tips of his fingers. Across the room, Hermione was doing the same thing.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**A/N: **Coming up... Draco hatches a plan.

I'm sorry if Hermione seemed OOC with the deal but I wanted to shake things up a little, and I think I managed to justify her reasons okay.

So Pansy's on Team Draco, who are you supporting? Let me know... or don't... all reviews are read and appreciated! :)


	4. 13th December

**A/N: **Eeeee! Thank you all so much for your reviews and support, you're awesome! Special shout-out to _**OuiSexSi**, _for the continued support by reviewing every chapter and the touching words of the last review in particular. (Just putting it out there I'm very flattered about the JKR comment but really, I'm nowhere near as awesome as her :'D) Quite honestly, before I read that review I was having serious writer's block, but your enthusiasm motivated me!

Note to readers: I just want to let you all know that whilst this is a romance story, things aren't going to happen really quickly. The story is about how the relationship between Draco and Hermione develops, so try not to hate me too much if I keep you all in suspense. It may be an A/U but I still want to make it as believable as possible for everyone... you probably guessed as much anyway but I just wanted to put it out there :)

Happy reading! (I own nothing)

* * *

**Common Room Conversations**

**12 days until the Yule Ball**

"Morning Greengrass." Draco smirked as Daphne emerged from the dormitories; he was still relishing his success in actually getting somewhere with Granger the previous day. It was a baby-step, but a step in the right direction nonetheless. Daphne sent a rude hand gesture his way in response and marched towards the Common Room door. She was in too much of a bad mood to grace him with words.

"What's with her?" Draco asked as the door slammed shut.

"Maybe it's her special time if you know what I mean." Blaise replied, raising an eyebrow at him.

Draco shuddered slightly, "What a lovely thing to be thinking about first thing in the morning," he said sarcastically.

"You asked," his friend shot back with a smirk.

At that moment the door was flung open again, and Daphne reappeared. She was holding a rolled up piece of parchment. Stomping back through the room towards the boys, she threw it unceremoniously in their direction. It bounced off Draco's hand and fell to the floor.

"Flitwick said to give you this," she said to Draco. Her brown eyes were stony as they met his despite the obstruction of her glasses. In Draco's opinion, they made her look more sinister, though he would never admit it out loud.

He merely shrugged and Daphne turned sharply, her blonde hair flipping around her shoulders as she did so. In a matter of seconds the boys heard the sound of the door opening and closing once more. Blaise let out a breath and stared at Draco, his expression was easily readable: _'yeah – _definitely_ her special time.' _

Pansy decided to take that moment to emerge from the dormitories. "What's up with her?" she said. Blaise would have thought she was concerned for Daphne had he not turned to look at her and witness an amused smirk spread across her pug-like face. He frowned in confusion, whilst beside him Draco was trying not to laugh at Pansy's question: he and Blaise's previous conversation topic was still fresh in his mind.

"No idea," he said, coughing to hide his amusement, "she just assaulted me with this." He waved the parchment in the air, having just picked it up off the floor.

"Oh you _poor _thing," Pansy said sarcastically.

"I know," Draco replied seriously. "first that bloody Hippogriff, now I could potentially suffer severe blood loss through paper-cuts." He examined his hands intently.

Pansy rolled her eyes. Usually Draco's over-dramatic tendencies didn't bother her, for it gave her the chance to bask in the attention he would give her for being so concerned about him. It had become sort of a routine of theirs over the years that they had been at school; she got the attention and he would get an ego-boost whenever he would suffer an 'injury'.

Up until this point, until this stupid bet came about, their unspoken arrangement meant that Pansy had always been under the impression that Draco harboured romantic feelings for her, as she did for him. But ever since Daphne had called him out on his bluff, she knew the truth and had therefore given up hope on such an event occurring (at least for now). In Pansy's opinion, that was just another strike against Daphne's name.

"Bit weird that he's sent you a note don't you think?" Blaise's voice interrupted Pansy's thoughts, "What could be so urgent that he can't wait to tell you until next lesson?"

Draco shrugged and slowly unravelled the parchment, his eyes scanning the words upon it.

He scoffed and scrunched the parchment up into a ball once he had finished.

"Bloody stupid teachers." He muttered under his breath, along with some cruder words.

"What?" Pansy asked, barely hiding her smile. She may want Draco to win the bet but that didn't mean she also didn't want him to suffer a little; she just felt that Daphne deserved to suffer more.

The blond wiped his hands down his face and rested his chin in his palms. He opened the parchment back up and read aloud to Pansy and Blaise. His tone was almost condescending.

'_Mr Malfoy,_

_As you are probably aware, you have consistently been one of the highest achievers in your year group in Charms classes, and have demonstrated your natural aptitude for the subject on numerous occasions. However, as of late I feel that your performance and effort levels in class have been lacking, and I'm afraid to say that it shows in the marks of your recent essays, although this could be nothing more than the excitement of the Triwizard Tournament getting the better of you._

_Nevertheless, your apparent struggle to perform a summoning charm in yesterday's lesson was enough to convince me that a few tuition sessions could benefit you, because as it stands, you are at risk of falling behind, and I am not the only Professor to have noticed your grades have been slipping this year. I apologise for dropping this on you so close to the Christmas holidays, but I'd like you to be caught up by the time you take your end-of-term exam next week. _

_Of course, it is entirely your decision to accept the offer of tuition or not; it would only be a couple of hours during the week. Let me know what you decide at our next lesson._

_Professor F. Flitwick.'_

Blaise burst out laughing as he finished, and Draco scowled. He scrunched the parchment up again and threw it at him.

"This is all your fault," he whined, "If you, Crabbe and Goyle hadn't sabotaged me yesterday morning I wouldn't have had any trouble being able to summon Crabbe's quill, and this wouldn't have happened."

"For your information, _I_ was trying to stop them from making a scene. And this is mostly your fault anyway. You're the one who spent about three weeks not doing your homework to make those 'Potter stinks' badges."

Draco rolled his eyes. "The man obviously has something against me," he shot Blaise a warning look when he saw that he was about to make a snarky comment, "hear me out: it's really no secret that I'm the one who charmed all of those bloody badges in the first place, using spells that aren't even on the fourth year curriculum I might add, and he wants me to have tuition? The irony is almost poetic."

Blaise again found the funny side, and in that moment Draco almost missed Pansy's insufferable sympathy. He looked sideways at her in arrogant hope but she seemed lost in thought and wasn't looking at him.

"I don't know what you're making such a fuss about – you don't have to do it." His friend said.

"You're missing the point, Zabini. Just the suggestion that I need to play catch up to the likes of Potter and the Weasel is almost insulting."

"They might have got letters too." Blaise shrugged. He clapped Draco on the back and started walking out of the common room to get a late breakfast before classes began.

"You know, this tuition thing may not be that bad." Pansy mused aloud when she saw Blaise leave.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked wearily as he turned to face the girl again.

"I have information," she said airily, blowing on her freshly painted fingernails.

Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "What is it?" He highly doubted there was anything that would make Charms tuition a good thing.

"How are you doing on the getting-Granger-to-go-out-with-you front?" Pansy changed the subject.

Draco started. Since when did Pansy know it was Granger? "Why do you care?" He evaded answering her previous question, knowing that Granger was probably the worst person Daphne could have chosen in Pansy's eyes, and therefore knowing that she was bound to want to sabotage the outcome somehow.

"Oh I don't," she snorted unattractively, "just answer the question Draco, and I can decide if the information would be of any use to you."

He hesitated. This could well be a trap, for he knew that he would now be in Pansy's bad books, having admitted that there were never any true feelings behind his years of flirting with the brunette, apparently unbeknownst to her.

"Okay I suppose."

"Didn't sound like it from what you said when Blaise was here. I could swear I heard you accuse him of sabotage..." Pansy's voice trailed off.

Draco sighed, "Fine, maybe the day didn't get off to the best start. Besides, you aren't exactly the right person to judge since you decided to bunk off Charms yesterday," he shot Pansy an irritated look, "_But, _you were in Defence and so witnessed what happened." He didn't elaborate but Pansy knew to what he was referring.

"Oh yeah," she said with mock admiration, "that was really something. You picked up her wand, that's _bound_ to convince her to go to the Ball with you."

"I do have a plan you know, you've got to be patient with these things, like a Slytherin should be. The house symbol is a snake for a reason; they don't go in for the kill straight away - they analyse, assess, weaken its prey's defences, and then they strike. Don't underestimate me, Parkinson; the whole point of this bet is to prove how my charm can win over anybody."

Draco hadn't meant to start preaching but truthfully he had no plan. His initial thought was to have civil interaction with Granger little and often so as to not make it painfully obvious that it was all for a bet, but when he saw it from Pansy's perspective it didn't seem enough.

Pansy was very unconvinced by his claim, and it showed on her face.

"Speaking of your charm, I'll get back to my point about this Charms tuition,"

"I'm all ears," Draco said unenthusiastically.

"Don't you give me sass Draco Malfoy," Pansy snapped, "I don't think you're doing as well as you thought you were going to, and this information is going to help you."

"Why would you help me?" He replied with caution, "what's the catch?"

"No catch, for you winning the bet will benefit both of us," she said. Draco decided not to press her further; he sensed her willing involvement meant that she had a score to settle, and once Pansy started bitching, it took a great deal of time and effort to get her to stop.

"Go on," he drawled.

"Whilst I was 'bunking off' as you put it-"

"You _were_ bunking off."

"Shh," she hissed, "I came back here and hung around for a while. After first lesson was over I took a long walk around the grounds and I didn't come back in the castle until about ten minutes before lunch. I ate, and then began to wander the castle. I overheard a conversation between Granger and Weasley's sister. Your little bookworm mentioned that she was going to be tutoring Potter for Charms."

"I'm not seeing how this will help me," Draco said.

"Honestly do I have to spell everything out for you?"

"Usually you wouldn't, but you frazzled my brain for a moment there. Don't make a habit of referring to Granger as '_my _little bookworm'."

"Fine. Your little flobberworm, then," Pansy replied. She continued with her explanation quickly so Draco had no time to make another remark, "why not ask her to tutor you as well? Flitwick wants you to anyway so surely that would be a good enough reason for you to ask. Plus she'll be less likely to refuse you on that basis."

Draco suddenly perked up; maybe Pansy wasn't as dense as she appeared to be. It wasn't a sure thing that Granger would say yes, but Draco was confident in his abilities to talk her round.

"I'm still not totally sure why you'd help me, but I'm sure as hell not complaining. Thanks Parkinson."

"Don't mention it. Now remember I'm on your side, so you better not screw this up," she warned. She blew a kiss his way and strolled out of the room, leaving Draco with his thoughts.

He watched as she walked away and shook his head. Could the girl not take the hint that he wasn't interested in her? If Granger was as complex and confusing as Pansy could be, he was in for a long two weeks.

Draco decided to take a break from worrying about the bet; it was Saturday tomorrow and so he would have to wait until Monday's Charms lesson to take advantage of the information Pansy had divulged. Merlin knows he'd need a couple of day's peace if he would have to endure Granger's know-it-all attitude at length next week, and indeed, the week after that when – not 'if', but_ 'when' - _he would accompany her to the Yule Ball.

* * *

The fourth-year Gryffindors were also discussing the Ball. The boys were sitting on the squashy sofas in front of the unlit fireplace waiting for Hermione so they could go down to breakfast. Well, that's what Harry and Ron were doing. Dean, Neville and Seamus on the other hand were willingly hanging back to postpone the inevitability of having to go to Potions for first lesson as long as they could.

Hermione and Ginny meanwhile, were talking in Hermione's dorm, which was otherwise unoccupied.

"So have you selected your victim yet?" Hermione asked the redhead, secretly hoping the answer would be 'no' so she wouldn't have to worry about kissing her date at the Ball, hell she didn't even have a date to kiss yet!

"I've narrowed down my options to a Gryffindor in your year, since they're the ones whom I'll know the best through you, Harry and Ron," she answered. Evidently, Ginny had been giving this a lot of thought.

"Harry's a no-go," she continued, "I hear that the Champions have to dance with their partners first in front of everyone. I'm not the best dancer and from what you've told me, neither is Harry, so I imagine we'd be made a laughing stock if I went with him. Usually that wouldn't bother me but those Beauxbatons snobs irritate me enough as it is without giving them reason to look down their noses at me even more."

"Don't tell Harry that, he's just as stressed as I am about finding a date," Hermione laughed humourlessly.

"Speaking of, what are you going to do about Viktor?" asked Ginny.

"I figured I'd just you know…go with the flow until you get a date," she replied weakly.

Ginny rolled her eyes at her friend, "Come on Mione, Parkinson or no Parkinson you still have to get a date because of what you told my brother."

"I know," Hermione sighed. She knew Ginny was right, but she wouldn't know how to go about asking a boy out, let alone _hinting _about wanting to be asked out. She and Viktor had never even spoken to each other all that much before; they said the occasional 'hello' and acknowledged one another's presence but that was the extent of their interaction, despite how much time he spent in the library.

"Let's go down to class, breakfast would have finished by now," the younger witch said. Sensing her friend's anxiety she put a hand on Hermione's shoulder, "we'll figure something out later. You _will _get a date, Hermione. Don't worry too much," Ginny smiled and walked towards the door that lead to the steps down to the Common Room.

Hermione grinned, beyond grateful to have a friend like Ginny who seemed to radiate positive energy and determination. She followed the redhead down the stairs and raised her eyebrows as snippets of the boy's conversation came into earshot.

"Actually now ye comes to mention dates, I was thinkin' o' askin' Hermione," came Seamus' Irish lilt, much to the surprise of the girls. They had by this point, reached the bottom of the stairs but Ginny held Hermione back so they could continue to eavesdrop.

"Sorry mate, she's taken. Allegedly," Ron muttered. His tone suggested that he didn't believe the statement, though.

_Thanks Ronald, that's one potential date down the floo. _Hermione thought.

"Aye, that's fair enough. Lavender's bin droppin' us hints this past week anyways," said Seamus, "Then again, I could always ask yer sister."

Ginny took a sharp intake of breath and waggled her eyebrows triumphantly at Hermione at his words.

"Hey!" Ron's voice almost shouted.

"Oh, do you mind not asking Ginny out, Sea? I was planning on asking her." Neville said at the same time.

Harry, Dean and Seamus burst out laughing. Hermione noted that Neville and Ron were not joining in and she was willing to bet all of her savings that Ron's ears would be scarlet by this point.

"Mate I was jokin'," Seamus said between laughs, to both Ron and Neville.

"Can you lot please stop talking about going on a date with my _sister?" _Ron said sharply.

Ginny decided to take that moment to make an appearance.

"Boys, no need to fight over me," she declared as she swept gracefully into the room, demonstrating her talent to make such comments without sounding arrogant. Hermione followed her.

"How much of that did you hear?" asked Ron, whose ears were indeed, bright red.

"Enough." Ginny said evasively. She turned to address Neville, "and Neville, I'd be delighted to go to the Ball with you. That is if no one has any objections to it," she shot Ron a warning look at this statement.

Hermione gaped at the forwardness of her friend. How a girl two years younger than her could have that much confidence was a mystery. Then again, Hermione supposed that growing up with six brothers would toughen you up quite a bit.

Neville looked just about as shocked as Hermione felt. A blush had spread across his cheeks and it took a while for him to compose himself. After a few seconds had passed, Ginny's words had sunk in and he smiled up at her and nodded, apparently at a loss for what to say next.

Again, Ginny picked up on his nerves and broke the silence. "Great," she said, smiling at Neville, "I should really get going to class now, see you all later." She walked past Hermione on her way to the door, "see how easy that was." She said in a low voice. She winked at Hermione and left the room.

_Of course it was easy; it was Neville. _Hermione thought with a slight hint of bitterness and envy at how effortless it had been for Ginny. She thought her point was valid though; Neville was about as intimidating as a Pygmy Puff.

"We should probably get going too." Hermione announced. She wanted to scurry away before Ron had time to start moaning about what had just occurred. The boys nodded and hauled themselves off the chairs and began trooping towards the door. Harry and Ron were the last to move, so Hermione waited behind.

The trio began walking down the grand staircase to the dungeons in silence for a while before Ron spoke up.

"So who are you going to the Ball with, Hermione?"

"I don't think its any of your concern really, Ron." She said. She didn't like how uptight and aloof her response made her sound, but she didn't want to provide a name until she had definitely secured a date with someone.

Ron merely shrugged and continued walking, dragging his feet along the floor. A tense silence fell over them, which made Harry (who was walking in between them) feel very awkward.

"You don't have to be secretive, Mione. We won't make fun if that's what you're worried about," he said, "I mean, who are we to judge when we don't have dates ourselves?" Harry laughed to himself and turned to face Hermione waiting for a response. This meant that he wasn't looking where he was going and subsequently caused him to walk right into the back of Daphne Greengrass.

"Crap not again." He whispered under his breath.

The girl tensed and whipped around, raising her wand to hex the life out of whoever just bumped into her. Daphne was ready to hex anyone considering the mood she was in, whether it have been a teacher or student.

However, as her eyes fell on Harry Potter, the fury vanished. Daphne conceded that she was going to have to force herself to be nice to him and hence prepare herself for having to kiss him, for Pansy had made it perfectly clear of her intentions to sabotage the outcome of the bet in Draco's favour. She had been making snide comments about Daphne's penalty in the event of Draco's triumph all through the night, and it hurt Daphne that her 'friend' could be so cruel, and all because of a stupid boy.

It wasn't her fault that Draco was a pompous arse and made Pansy believe he fancied her! And she _had_ apologised for choosing Granger…

"Are you kidding me? This is the second time in two days. Are your glasses defective or is it just you being a clumsy buffoon?" There was still an edge to Daphne's voice in her attempt to keep her tone calm but she managed to put a smile on her face. On the inside, she was seething and would like nothing more than to use an Unforgiveable on Potter right there, for his mere presence was just another reminder of Pansy's scheming.

"Sorry Daphne." Harry said just as awkwardly as he had the previous day. He didn't understand how girl's brains worked, so thought it best to keep his answers as vague as possible. It was then that he realised that perhaps this was also the reason he was failing to get a date for the Ball.

"I swear to Salazar and Merlin right now, if you do that once more, I _will _hex your bony arse. Got it?"

Sensing Daphne's temper, the three Gryffindors all moved to grab their wands in case she decided to hex any of them right then for good measure.

"Shouldn't you all be getting to class? There will be more than enough time for duelling in our next lesson," Professor Moody growled from the bottom of the stairs.

"You heard him. Let's just go. I bloody well wouldn't put it past him to make us duel him one-on-one to punish us if we don't move," Ron said quietly.

"I'd take that option over being turned into an animal and shoved down Crabbe's trousers." Hermione laughed, simultaneously shuddering in disgust at the thought.

The trio manoeuvred around Daphne to continue their journey down the staircase.

Hermione had barely got two steps lower when the other girl spoke again,

"And Potter," she began. Harry turned to her apprehensively, and Daphne pulled her glasses down to rest on the end of her nose. She looked at him over the top of the lenses, "let me know if it turns out that your glasses actually _are _defective, I know some good wizarding opticians." She didn't say anything more, and swept past them, soon disappearing from sight.

"Seriously, _what_ is going on with the Slytherins?" Ron demanded.

Hermione, for once, was stumped. _Occulus Reparo _would fix any defects with glasses, surely? So why on earth was Daphne tipping Harry off about wizarding opticians,_ if _such a thing existed? Granted, Daphne had never been much of a pain. In fact she hardly interacted with them at all, but her recent behaviour had been noticeably more civil, as had Draco's.

Hermione remained lost in her thoughts as she Harry and Ron finally arrived to Potions ten minutes after the class had started. It hardly registered when Snape promptly docked 50 points from each of them and issued them all with an evening detention; she had been comparing each situation in her mind when slight anomalies in the Slytherin's behaviour had been noticed, searching for an explanation.

Finally, she uncovered a link between all of the instances she knew of, and with it, a possible theory for what had been going on.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**A/N: **Apologies for the lack of Dramione interaction but the stuff that happened in this chapter is leading up to the stuff that will allow A LOT of Dramione interaction (yay!) Like I said, bear with me so I can set things up :)

Reviews are 'totally awesome' and are always read and appreciated ... (if you got that reference, you are amazing)


	5. 16th December (Part 1)

**A/N: **(I own nothing) As ever, a huge thanks to everyone who has read and/or reviewed this story- it never fails to make me smile when I get a notification of any new followers!

I know I skipped a few days in the timeline, but this day alone is going to have about three chapters so don't panic if I miss a day or two from time-to-time :)

* * *

**A Plan in Motion**

**9 days until the Yule Ball - Part 1**

Over the course of the weekend, Hermione found herself back at square one, because her plausible theory had turned out to be nothing but conjecture and coincidence.

She had been almost positive that Professor Moody seemed to be indirectly influencing the changes in the Slytherin's behaviour: he was there moments before Malfoy apologised about accidentally hexing her; he was there when Daphne gave Harry the tip-off about the 'wizarding opticians' (which Hermione discovered to be a genuine thing – she had done her research), _and _lastly, the moment Malfoy had gotten out of his seat to pick her wand up for her, was in Moody's lesson.

Everything about that theory seemed to make sense; the evidence was there, and the Slytherins had motives to go with it. Simply put, none of them want to be given the 'ferret treatment' as Malfoy had done. That also explained why they seemed to be playing nice with Hermione, Harry and Ron in particular, as Harry was on the receiving end of Malfoy's goading when the Professor performed said 'ferret treatment' in the first place.

When Hermione had told Harry and Ron of her thoughts on Friday night after their painfully long detention (spending 2 hours counting and sorting Flobberworms wasn't exactly the highlight of her day), Ron seemed more than convinced that she had found the answer. Harry, meanwhile, shot down her whole argument with one sentence.

"Moody couldn't have been lurking anywhere that first time with Daphne because that happened in the Entrance Hall and he was in Flitwick's room when I got to the Charms corridor."

"Maybe there are two Moodys?" Hermione had argued pointlessly. She refused to give up when it all made so much sense.

Her friends had shared a look at her wild grasping at straws. She felt embarrassed for even suggesting such a thing, but Harry, like the loyal person he was, saw it as a demonstration for how much Hermione believed in her notion. He suggested that they purposefully try and wind the Slytherins up whenever Professor Moody was around to test it, so they did just that.

It was easy enough for Harry to touch a nerve with Daphne; he had followed her into the Great Hall at Saturday's evening meal when he saw that Moody was already at his seat at the teacher's table. He jogged after her, making a show of calling to Hermione and Ron across the room and bumped into her on purpose, but under the pretence of an accident. As promised, Daphne hexed him without a moment's hesitation, and was issued with a detention. She flounced off after that and Hermione immediately came to his rescue to counter-act the spell, all the while apologising continuously because evidently, her theory was wrong.

Stubborn as she was however, Hermione decided to test it once more, and who better to test it on than Draco Malfoy himself? If he insulted her or attempted to hex her in Moody's presence, only then would she concede that her hunch had been incorrect.

She was a little agitated when no opportune moment presented itself on Saturday, (that is, there was no circumstance when she, Malfoy and Moody were in the same place at the same time), she was forced to be patient. This wasn't an easy feat for her, though. She was in a form of limbo, not knowing the answers and having no other way of discovering them.

Hermione had sought out Ginny the next day to meet her in the library and discuss a plan of action about the date/ Viktor situation: she thought that whilst she waited for an opening to solve one problem, she may as well put her time to good use by solving another.

"Look Hermione, you can't keep putting this off. He's already had a flood of offers," Ginny said without preamble as she sat on the chair next to Hermione.

"Hello to you too," the older witch had responded curtly. She guessed that Viktor would be a popular choice as a date for the Ball, but knowing it as a fact just made her more nervous about asking him.

"Sorry, just trying to give you a nudge," Ginny explained, "have you made any progress at all since we last spoke?"

Hermione pulled a face, not knowing if the feeble attempts she had made so far would count as real progress. Viktor had asked what her name was on Saturday, which then lead to a ten-minute tutorial from her about how to actually _pronounce _her name. It was just rather unfortunate that this took place not long before he had a 'meeting' with Karkaroff about the second task of the Tournament. Hermione found that he was actually quite pleasant company, though he didn't say much after her impromptu lesson was out of the way.

The redhead had taken her silence as a 'no', and had told Hermione that she'd have to play dumb or ask for some kind of help in order to initiate conversation - Hermione remembered scoffing in disbelief at that. If there was anything she wasn't good at (except for flying), it was lying, especially if she were to be lying about not knowing certain things. It was all totally alien, but Hermione knew that it was the best chance she had in order to start conversations. Ginny had explained that Viktor would willingly help her on the basis that he was a boy and wouldn't turn down the chance to have his ego boosted a little.

Hermione couldn't recall exactly what was said next, but she remembered that soon, Professor Moody and Malfoy had entered the library as well, though not at the same time. The point was that she had an ideal moment to test her theory out, so she took it.

Malfoy's lip curled slightly as his eyes first fell on her, but he seemed to stop himself from allowing it to evolve into a sneer. He tensed his jaw and walked to the Charms section, and Hermione followed after excusing herself to Ginny. She had been extremely hopeful at this point because the Professor was already in the library in full view of the entrance, which meant that Malfoy would have seen him and potentially stopped himself from sneering at her because of it.

Her plan had been to provoke Malfoy by teasing him about the ferret incident, but she ended up tripping over a raised floorboard and falling into a bookshelf. The impact caused a couple of books to fall from the shelf and narrowly miss the blond as they hit the floor.

Malfoy whipped around, his expression was a mixture of shock and annoyance. Hermione held her breath as she waited for his reaction. Professor Moody had approached them, having heard the noise made by Hermione and the books. Malfoy seemed to hesitate, giving Hermione a moment of triumph; however he drew his wand, aimed it at a book that had fallen, and lunged his arm forwards in a pointing motion.

"Depulso," he said, though the book didn't move.

Hermione had braced herself for the impact of the book hitting her as she heard Malfoy utter the incantation for the banishing charm, but it never came. She lowered her arms from shielding her face, and saw Malfoy examining his wand, a look of confusion on his face. He was muttering inaudibly under his breath.

"Did I not make myself clear about hexing your classmates, Mr Malfoy?" Moody said in a low voice from behind Hermione.

Malfoy snapped his head up and glared at both of them through his fringe. He put his wand back in his pocket and sauntered past them and out of the library, as though nothing had happened.

After that, Hermione had been forced to admit defeat on her notion about the reason for the Slytherin's behaviour. She had been trying to think of other possible explanations, and continued to do so in her lessons on Monday, though no inspiration had so far come to her.

They were definitely up to something, but what and why?

* * *

Unbeknownst to Hermione, Draco had deliberately performed the spell wrong: the correct wand movement for a banishing charm was a sweeping motion, whereas he pointed. He didn't know why Granger had followed him, but thanks to her nosiness he had been able to give her reason to believe that he was struggling in Charms.

Their lesson with Professor Flitwick wasn't until the end of the day, and Draco was anxious to say the least. He didn't much like wasting an entire school day doing nothing about Granger if she wouldn't co-operate with him on the tuition front. In fact, Draco felt that his success on the bet rested entirely on the bookworm agreeing to help him, as he had no alternate plan that was able to secure him a fair amount of time alone with her, where none of their friends could sabotage the situation.

He inwardly cringed when he realised he was actually suggesting to himself that time alone with the jumped-up Mudblood was actually a _good _thing. The bet was messing with his head, and he told himself that the sooner he turned on the good old Malfoy charisma and got her to agree to go to the Ball with him, the better… for the sake of his sanity.

Draco had noticed a slight change in Daphne too. She seemed to have distanced herself from the rest of the Slytherins, and had been in a much snappier mood than usual. _Perhaps Blaise was correct about it being her 'special time' after all_, Draco thought to himself as Charms finally began and he saw Daphne and Pansy giving each other death-glares a couple of seats away. He then realised that Pansy wanted him to win purely to make sure Daphne received the penalty. Girl's minds really were strange things; hell even _he _thought he deserved Pansy's wrath over Daphne, but Draco wasn't going to stop Pansy from helping him – only a Gryffindor would insist on 'playing fair' like the noble twerps they were.

Speaking of, Draco noticed a certain bushy-haired girl looking his way in his peripheral vision. She was still suspicious, evidently, from Thursday when he had apologised to her. Draco rolled his eyes at how predictable she was. She kept glancing over his way, as though waiting for something. Suddenly it registered what she was waiting for, and Draco obliged her.

He made a show of clearing his throat, stretching out his back and rolling his shoulders, channelling all of the arrogance within his being as though announcing to the class that Draco Malfoy was preparing to perform an exquisite bit of magic. He figured that he had better make the show good if he had such a captivated audience.

Sure enough, his display had captured Granger's undivided attention. Beside him, Blaise was looking at him as if to say, '_do you realise how much of a prat you look?' _and Daphne had glanced over for a second or two and turned back to her textbook again, shaking her head. Given that she made no haughty remark at Draco's complacent body language, the blond realised that yes, this girl was threatened and worried. _Pfft, serves her right for doubting me and suggesting the bet in the first place. She knows deep down I'm going to win. _

Draco's show had been more than effective… perhaps _too _effective at that. The room, which a minute ago was filled with laughter, chatter and cushions flying everywhere, was now much quieter, and many pairs of eyes were on him. Draco almost lost his nerve. He knew what he was about to do and wasn't in the least bit happy about having such a large audience to witness it. But he took a breath and clamped his teeth together as though concentrating hard; he was telling himself that it would be worth it in the long run. _Think about Greengrass having to snog Potter and you can do this. If people give you stick you'll just have to remind them that no one makes fun of a Malfoy. _

He raised his wand and pointed it at the cushion that lay on the table in front of Blaise, hoping that no one noticed how much his hand was shaking. Again he performed the incorrect wand motion and said, "Depulso." As planned, nothing happened, and Draco feigned frustration by swearing and sneering at the students who were whispering to each other or laughing at him. He didn't have to act out his embarrassment, though.

Draco scanned the room with narrowed eyes. This gave him the chance to gauge Granger's reaction, and he was relieved that his performance hadn't been in vain. At first, she looked shocked and confused, just as she had done in the library; however Potter whispered something to her and a smirk spread across her face as her brown eyes locked with Draco's.

He wasn't entirely sure he liked seeing Granger smirking; it didn't suit her at all. The expression was entirely too Slytherin for a goody-goody like her, and it made her look slightly unfriendly. No, it wasn't an attractive look. Wait. What the bloody hell was he thinking?!

"For Salazar's sake just snap out of it and bloody well pull yourself together," Draco hissed to himself for even thinking such things as he tore his gaze away from the girl. This bet was going to be the death of him; he could feel it. And the only good thing that could possibly come out of it was seeing Greengrass embarrass herself too by kissing Scar-head.

It was lucky that no one else in the room knew the true context behind his words; they could have easily have been misunderstood as an exclamation of annoyance for his 'inability' to successfully banish the cushion. Professor Flitwick seemed to be a fine example of this; he wandered over to the Slytherins once the background noise began to rise in volume again.

"I trust you received my letter, Mr Malfoy?" The Professor squeaked, shooting Draco a concerned and knowing look, with both eyebrows raised.

"Yes sir, I'll talk to you after class," Draco replied as nonchalantly as possible, plastering a stiff smile on his face and willing the man to stop being so damn condescending. He could have brought this up at the end of the lesson but no, he had to single him out and basically announce to the whole room that he needed special treatment. And that wasn't an exaggeration, as Granger, the Weasel and Potter were looking over and whispering to each other. They had about as much subtlety as Crabbe and Goyle.

Daphne's curiosity had also been rising as the lesson went on. Just what had been in that note? Merlin, she was really losing her touch, she should have read it before she gave it to Draco. What a rookie mistake that was! To be fair, she hadn't been in the best place that day, and truthfully she wasn't much better now, but she was determined to stop wallowing in self-pity and start showing that arrogant snake that he didn't threaten her at all. He didn't need to know that Daphne was a tiny bit worried; she had overestimated Granger's apparent hatred for the boy. In all honesty she was a little disappointed: the way the Gryffindors carried on she was almost positive that Granger would have hexed him just for looking at her. The girl just had an air of superiority about her in Daphne's opinion. Maybe she and Malfoy were a match made in heaven after all.

After Flitwick finally left him alone, Draco considered his part done for the time being. He waited for the remaining minutes of the lesson to pass by talking to Blaise about Quidditch. It was a nice ten-minute breather from worrying about the bet; there was just the minor drawback of having to keep up the façade by staring daggers at his wand every few seconds when Draco clocked Granger looking at him.

"What's going on? You're plotting something," Blaise said as Draco met his gaze after calling his wand a 'useless stick unworthy of channelling Malfoy magic' for the umpteenth time. (Never before had Draco felt as stupid as he did then.)

He was unaware of the information Pansy had given to Draco a few days ago, so Draco quickly explained as Professor Flitwick told them to pack their things away. Blaise let out a breath as the students began to filter out of the room, "good luck mate," he said, clapping Draco on the back. Now that he knew why his friend had behaving so strangely, he saw the genius behind it; Blaise just didn't know if Granger would fall for it or not. Then again, who was she to turn down the opportunity to show off a bit, especially if she was under the impression that Draco was failing and needed her help?

Draco remained in his seat and continued his stare-off with his wand as his classmates left. He may look insane but no one could say he didn't commit when he needed to. Just as he predicted, Granger lingered behind. She was packing her things away painfully slowly, and Draco rolled his eyes. He had planned to talk her round after speaking to Flitwick, but her presence would benefit Draco nicely. Her strange need to poke her nose in everyone's business was actually going in his favour for once!

"Is there a problem, Miss Granger?" Flitwick asked.

"No sir, I won't be long. I just need to rearrange some things so I can fit everything in my bag," she answered. Draco scoffed, and the girl looked up at him. It was written all over her face that she was lying. Draco smirked and shook his head at her knowingly. He found it hard not to laugh when her eyes grew large and a light flush spread across her cheeks and nose.

He had rumbled her and she knew it.

"So Mr Malfoy, what have you decided about these tutoring sessions?" Flitwick addressed him again, apparently unperturbed that another student would hear every word.

_Time to turn on the charm, _Draco thought, "I've thought about it at length, and I've taken into account the wishes of you and other staff members. I trust your judgement, so I'll be happy to take you up on the offer. In fact, I'm quite eager to revise as much as I can before Thursday's exam, so would it be possible to have an extra session of Charms every day until then?"

The teacher looked shocked, "I must say, I wasn't expecting you to be quite so… enthusiastic," he said, smiling.

In response, Draco simply smiled back, eyeing the Gryffindor at a sideways glance. She was eating up every word.

"However," Flitwick continued, "I'm afraid I won't be able to oblige that request. At least, every night wouldn't be an option for me. I was initially thinking that two hours tomorrow night would suffice: we have a lot of meetings and marking to do you see."

_Yes, I'm aware what teachers do. "_Oh not to worry, sir. I understand; my apologies for being so presumptuous," Draco drawled.

He crossed the room towards Hermione, who decided to take that moment to make an escape. But Draco had longer legs and so caught up to her. "Now I think about it, Granger here is rather…gifted in this subject. Maybe she would consider tutoring me? I mean, I already know that she's offering Potter extra help," Draco was talking to the Professor but looking at Hermione, trying to disguise the condescending tone in his voice. He did his best to pull off a passive and innocent expression by relaxing his mouth and tilting his head downwards, looking at the girl through the hair that was falling in front of his eyes.

If he could take a snapshot of the look on Granger's face as a memento of this moment, he would. Her mouth was hanging open and her head was tilted upward and away from him, her eyes were darting between him and Flitwick. Draco didn't think he would ever see her at a loss for words, and credited himself for being able to invoke such a state in her.

"Why Mr Malfoy, that is a simply splendid idea," the Professor said happily, "I must say it's very noble of you to offer an olive branch to Miss Granger here. I daresay the entire faculty is aware of your history, and um, _differences_," he chuckled, unable to sense Hermione's befuddlement.

"What say you, Granger?" Draco asked, closing the gap between he and Hermione slightly.

Hermione looked up at him, half expecting to see some kind of mocking expression on the boy's face as he turned to face her again. She was surprised to see that there was none. Malfoy's eyes were calm and searching. His jaw was tensed slightly but she guessed that it couldn't have been in his comfort zone to willingly admit he needed help, and from _her_ of all people. Hermione didn't know him well enough to be aware of just how much he cared about school. He certainly didn't strike her as the type, but she _did_ know what kind of man Lucius Malfoy was, and he certainly wouldn't be impressed to learn that his son was failing a class, whilst Harry Potter, Blood-Traitor Weasley and Mudblood Granger, were all passing.

Malfoy had asked her a question. The ball was in her court now and she needed to decide quickly what she was going to do. _You can't trust anyone these days… _Ron's words echoed in her mind, and really her head was telling her that Malfoy was up to something and shouldn't be trusted. But her heart was saying that the Professor was right, this _was _an olive branch, and Hermione couldn't help wondering if this had been his game all along.

"Er, yes," she began, clearing her throat, "well, Harry and I were going to meet in the common room, but if you want to join us I suppose we can meet in the library instead." Hermione said indifferently, phrasing it as an offer. This was her way of assessing how genuine Malfoy's suggestion had been.

Draco beamed triumphantly; finally he was getting somewhere, "great," he drawled, looking down at Hermione.

"Okay," she replied slowly. She sidestepped around Draco and hurried out of the door. He smirked and followed her out.

_To be continued..._

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**A/N: **Sorry for the cliffy but I had to leave it there otherwise this chapter would have been about 8,000 words long. I'll update pretty sharpish with the next part but after that it will be a tiny bit slower - I'm running out of pre-written chapters and I'm really busy at the moment so I haven't had much time to focus on this... forgive me please :)

Reviews always appreciated!


	6. 16th December (Part 2)

**A/N: **This disclaimer is for the rest of the story - I'm tired of writing the same thing every chapter: I don't own anything in the Harry Potter universe and I'm making no profits from this story.

Thank you everyone for being so patient, but the set-up chapters are over, may the games begin!

Happy reading!

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**A Close Call **

**9 days until the Yule Ball - Part 2**

"Granger," Draco called as he saw her bushy head bobbing away.

"What?" Hermione stopped and turned around.

He frowned as he caught up to her, "that's not very polite. I hope you're not this snappy when you're tutoring me," he smiled at her so she knew he was joking.

Hermione felt her cheeks grow slightly warm, and she kept her gaze forwards so he wouldn't notice her blush. This was the second time she had seen Draco Malfoy genuinely smile; the first time being just a minute ago when she agreed to help him. It made him look almost friendly and dare she think it – good looking?

"What are you up to, Malfoy?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he replied as he walked along side her.

"Why would you want my help? You hate me," Hermione said bluntly.

"That's not true," the witch raised her eyebrows in disbelief at this, "well it _used _to be true. But over the past year, at least, I haven't hated you."

"So what changed?"

"Must you know always know everything about everyone?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

His irritation was bubbling towards the surface, but surprisingly it wasn't directed towards Granger and her annoying traits. Instead, it was due to Daphne's bet that forced Draco to put up with them. He had to endure several more days of this, with no way to vent his annoyance. Greengrass knew what she was doing all right.

"I'm just a curious person," came the reply.

"I think you mean nosy."

At that, Hermione elbowed Draco in the arm. She had done it lightly, but his hand immediately flew to the spot she had touched and he started rubbing it dramatically.

"Jeez Granger you're so violent. First you punch me and now this?!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "you deserved it," was all she said.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek, still clutching his arm. "All right. I'll let you off the time in third year, but assaulting me with that bony elbow of yours was uncalled for. I've called you worse than 'nosy' in the past."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Would you _like _me to elbow you for the countless times you've called me a Mudblood?" She couldn't help the bitterness she felt creeping into her tone.

"Goodness, no. If you did that I'm sure you'd pummel me to a pulp knowing how violent you are. More to the point, you'd put a damper on my flawless complexion," Draco said, tilting his head downwards as if to prove to Hermione just how flawless his skin was.

Hermione sighed in annoyance at his response. Was it really too much to ask for a simple apology from him for the torrent of insults he had sent her way over the years? She scowled at him and sighed again when she saw that his complexion was indeed, flawless. His skin was smooth and pale like porcelain, with not a spot or blemish in sight. Hermione couldn't imagine how that was even possible for a boy his age; did he use an Anti-Acne potion or something?

She decided not to satisfy his ego by pressing him on this, so she changed the subject. "Tell me, why did you apologise to me last Thursday? I would have thought you'd be disappointed. You know, since you won't be able to poke fun at my teeth anymore."

Draco considered his response carefully so as to not offend the girl, which really, was easier said than done. "You underestimate me, Granger; I can think of plenty of other things I can tease you incessantly about. And –"

Hermione scoffed, "Name one, besides the fact that I'm a Mudblood."

Draco could tell that she wasn't going to let the Mudblood business drop all that easily, and he knew that Gryffindors were just about as bad as Slytherins when it came to wanting justice for dented pride. The fact of the matter was that Slytherins took matters into their own hands to exact revenge, whereas Gryffindors acted aloof and all high and mighty until they got an apology from whoever ticked them off. Draco didn't in the least bit feel ashamed about noticing these similarities between the two houses; he had to know the players to win the game.

He took a deep, calming breath. He knew what he had to do, and he loathed Daphne for it. He held an arm in front of Hermione's body to make her stop walking.

"Look Granger, I'm sorry about that. When I first started calling you that in second year, it wasn't meant as a show of my hatred for you, no matter how much it looked that way. I honestly didn't know how insulting it would be for you; it's a commonly used word in my house so I didn't think anything of it. Basically, I just wanted to show off. I knew that was a bad word and really it was all to do with the fact that you dented my ego. And when I called you a Mudblood on Thursday, that was just me taking my frustration out on you because my friends were being a nuisance."

Now that Draco thought about it, nothing that he said was a lie. Not an outright lie at least; he just exaggerated a couple of points. He surprised even himself as he realised this. He ran a hand through his hair.

Hermione was stunned. It amazed her how calm he seemed to be acting with all things considered. Whatever she had been expecting him to say to her, that certainly wasn't it. Not in a million years would that have been it. Who would have known that Draco Malfoy had a humble side under that arrogant bravado? Perhaps Ginny had been right after all, and Malfoy was turning over a new leaf.

"Oh, well thank you," Hermione smiled tentatively at the blond, at a loss for what else to do, "and sorry to ask another question, but-"

"Hang about Granger, I'm yet to finish answering the last question you asked, or rather, the last two things you asked of me," Draco said coolly. He swept his hand through the air in front of them, gesturing that they should continue walking.

Draco walked beside her. "I'll start with the fun bit. Other things that I can tease you about besides your teeth: your frizzy hair, your meddlesome habits, your know-it-all air of superiority, your frumpy dress sense, you're small-" He had been counting off the list on his fingers. Hermione elbowed him again at his last comment.

"I am not small!" she said indignantly.

Draco couldn't help but laugh at her. "I'm going to add 'strange' to the list."

"What? Why?" she demanded.

"It just baffles me how the thing that insulted you the most was the comment about your height."

"I am not small!" she repeated, coming to a halt once again.

"Really? Hmm let's see," Malfoy stepped in front of her so they were face to face. He put his hand on top of Hermione's head and moved his hand back towards himself. She rolled her eyes, fully aware of what he was doing.

"The top of your head comes up to the bottom of my chin. That's seems small to me." Hermione opened her mouth to protest on the grounds that he was a boy and so would naturally be taller than her anyway, or the fact that he had a big head (metaphorically, of course) but he cut her off, "then again, some of that could just be the frizz. You're probably a couple of inches shorter than I originally thought. See Granger, I've moved on from the teeth jokes already." He smirked at her and started walking before she could elbow him a third time.

"So are you going to tell me the reason why you apologised to me the other day, or are you going to carry on being an annoying git?" Hermione asked as she caught up to him.

"I know what I'd prefer to do," he smirked at her. "all right I'll answer, but you cannot ask me another personal question tonight. Agreed?"

"These questions concern me as well, you know."

"Yeah but you're giving me a headache, and frankly I don't need any more questions on top of the ones you'll be asking me about bloody Charms later. And don't forget that Potter will be there too, and I'm not exactly relishing the idea of being in his company as well as yours."

"Then why would you suggest that I tutor you?" Hermione huffed, narrowing her eyes.

"That sounds like another question to me Granger," Draco drawled, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Oh Merlin, just answer. Please. That's the last one for tonight I promise."

"Well since you said please, maybe I'll oblige that request. Although I expect to be allowed a chance to interrogate you in return," he said.

"Fine!" Hermione said, becoming irritated with his stalling, "What?!" she added in exasperation she saw Draco smirk in amusement.

"You are just way too easy to wind up. And you wonder why I've found such amusement doing it all these years," he scoffed but quickly continued speaking so Hermione had no chance to make another comment, "anyway; I think old Flitwick answered the first question for you. The apology was my way of offering an olive branch because like I said, I haven't really hated you since third year. I've actually come to respect you in a weird way since you punched me in the face, but don't get me wrong – you still annoy me. I asked for last minute tuition to reinforce the offer for a truce in case the message didn't sink in the first time. As for Potter, I had a little thing planned called 'divide and conquer'. I know how stubborn you lot can be."

Again, Draco didn't have to lie. Well, except for the thing about Potter. Draco had almost dropped himself in it there, but he prided himself with his ability to think on his feet. Aside from that, everything he said was true. Hermione just heard the words in a different context.

"Anyway Granger, you seem to be enjoying guilt-tripping me and taking the moral high ground. Don't forget that our apparent hatred was mutual."

Hermione felt a little guilty as he said this. "I'm sorry", she said. "Your apology was so out of the blue that I didn't quite know what to make of it. I more pitied you than hated you. To me you were just a snivelling, pathetic, jealous bully."

"And now?" Draco asked, feeling slightly hurt by how blunt she was.

"Now," Hermione paused, "I've come to respect you, in a weird way," she smirked as she repeated Draco's words back to him.

He smiled and nodded. They had reached the third floor doorway that lead on to the Grand Staircase by now, and Hermione turned to face Draco.

"Okay well, I'm off to get Harry. You can meet us in the library in about half an hour if you'd still like to join us."

Draco nodded again, "thanks for agreeing to help me, Granger. And since we both survived a five minute conversation with one another, can I assume that we're agreeing to be cordial now?"

"I suppose so," Hermione smiled, acting a little coy, "although, Harry and Ron may take more convincing than I did." She turned away to start ascending the stairs but stopped when Draco spoke again.

"Granger," he drawled, "don't smirk. It's not an attractive look on you." As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it. He bit his bottom lip to stop more of his thoughts from spewing out of his mouth that hadn't first been processed by his brain. He fumbled in his pocket for his wand, half-expecting Hermione to hex him. He hadn't meant it in an offensive way, but he wouldn't put it past her to find some excuse to hex him…or physically assault him…again…

But Hermione wasn't offended. In fact, she didn't quite know how to process his comment. She blinked several times and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, exposing the delicate blush that tinted her cheek. She felt foolish. Draco had most likely said that as his way of being cordial to her, as they had just agreed. It didn't mean anything. It _couldn't _mean anything. This was Draco Malfoy she was talking to!

"Don't tell me what to do, Malfoy," she paused for a moment, still in two minds about how she should handle his remark. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out loud a thought that had just floated through her mind, "and for the record, I could say the same thing about you."

With that she hurried up the stairs before the conversation could continue. She hung her head low and focused her attention on her feet, counting the amount of steps she ascended so as to divert her thoughts.

Hermione was concentrating so hard of thinking of anything other than what had happened that she walked straight into the portrait of the Fat Lady. She groaned and stumbled backwards, feeling a little dazed.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Neville asked from the floor below. He jogged up the staircase to her and put a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"Yeah, it's just been a long day that's all," Hermione laughed humourlessly. That had been an understatement if there ever was one. Her day had been long, confusing and strange, amongst several other things. It was all a dream surely? Yes, that knock to the head would wake her up. She'd be opening her eyes and lying in her bed any second now…

okay, now…

now?

Hermione had been gnawing on her bottom lip, staring blankly at the wall. Neville was waving his hand in front of her face.

"Hellooo? Earth to Hermione."

"Sorry Neville."

"Are you sure you're okay?" her friend asked, looking slightly worried.

"Yeah," Hermione said, putting on her most convincing fake-smile. She looked up at the woman in the portrait, said the password and entered the common room before Neville could press her further.

Harry and Ron were sat by the fireplace and talking quietly whilst playing a game of Wizard's Chess.

"Oh so you're backing out of the extra help then are you, Harry?" Hermione said, her voice sounding shriller than she had been anticipating.

Harry's green eyes widened behind the lenses of his glasses, "not at all," he replied, feeling a little guilty because he knew he had been neglecting preparation for the second task of the tournament, "we just decided to have a quick game whilst waiting for you."

"Yeah, what took you so long?" asked Ron without looking up. He watched as the horse of his knight violently kicked and smashed one of Harry's bishops.

"I er, Flitwick wanted to speak to me," she said, bending the truth somewhat.

"What about?" Ron continued.

"I'll tell you later; it was nothing really important anyway. I'm heading down to the library pretty much straight away. I'll just go and dump the books I won't need."

"Wait," said Harry, "I thought we were going to practice spells and stuff in here."

Hermione winced. She hadn't thought this through. What was it Malfoy had said earlier? Divide and conquer. Yes, that sounded like a good way to break the news of her new civil er, 'friendship?' with Malfoy to her friends.

"There's been a change of plans, just meet me in the library instead. You can finish your little game or whatever first." Hermione said, walking across the room to the dormitories. Harry would just have to find out the hard way: being forced into close proximity with his sworn enemy and not being able to argue with him or hex him, since they'd be in the library. At least the required low volume would give her chance to explain; plus if she could wear Harry down then it will make convincing Ron much easier (the redhead was known to be the most stubborn of the three of them).

Hermione paused as she dropped her schoolbag on the floor next to her bed. Had she always been this manipulative, for lack of a better word, or was a mere five minutes in the company of Malfoy enough for some of his Slytherin tendencies to rub off on her? Granted, she had never had a reason to steer and guide a situation like this before, but she still felt paranoid.

She went to the shared bathroom that lead off from her dorm and splashed cold water on her face. Malfoy was already messing with her head and they had barely been friends for five minutes – if you could class them as friends, that is. Godric knows what she had let herself in for!

Hermione then went back down to the common room, said goodbye to Harry and Ron and walked down the Grand Staircase at a brisk pace. She reached the third floor corridor again in no time and turned off into the room that she considered to be her second home in the castle.

The library wasn't overly crowded, which was a good thing as it meant that there was a good chance the tables right at the back of the room would be unoccupied. Hermione figured that if they were to be practicing spells, it was best to do so as far away from Madam Pince's desk as possible. She just hoped they wouldn't make much of a racket, but the library was really their only option as there were no spare classrooms they could use, the weather was abysmal outside and neither Harry nor Draco would be seen dead in the other's common room.

Hermione started walking towards the back of the library. When she went past the Restricted Section, a tall figure emerged from the shadows and a deep voice called to her.

"Hullo… Herman-ee?" Viktor Krum said. He was smiling but his thick eyebrows were furrowed. He was questioning if he pronounced her name correctly.

"Oh, hi Viktor. Close enough," she replied, returning the smile. It had completely slipped her mind that she was supposed to be trying to convince Viktor to take her to the Ball. Viktor took a step closer to her and she felt her stomach do a little flip when she noticed how handsome he was, albeit it was in a mysterious and brooding way.

"Agh," Viktor exclaimed in frustration, "your name is quite challenging to say for me. Perhaps ve can verk on it another time."

Hermione giggled, finding the slight language barrier he had to be oddly charming.

"Yes we can," she smiled again, "I'd help you now but I've got to go and claim a table – I'm going to be tutoring a couple of my friends." Viktor wouldn't understand the whole Malfoy issue so she decided not to go into details.

"Veally?" Viktor asked in his thick accent, "that is very how they say, er noble of you. You are very kind person."

Hermione blushed and looked down at her feet. She hadn't believed Ginny when she first said that Viktor had a crush on her, but now a teeny part of her mind was beginning to agree with her.

"Thank you Viktor, that's very sweet of you to say," she said, feeling a little flustered.

He raised his arm and ran a hand through his short hair. He looked like he was working up the courage to say something, so there was a slight pause between them. Hermione had no problem with this, as her attention was caught by the toned muscles of Viktor's torso that were revealed as his thick jumper was hiked up when his arm moved.

Afraid to be caught staring, Hermione raked her gaze back up to his face when he cleared his throat. Viktor blinked at her several times, so she wasn't totally convinced she _hadn't _been caught. In any case, she was thankful that he decided not to comment on it.

"Vould you mind if I asked you zomething?"

Butterflies flitted around Hermione's stomach, and her heart was hammering in her chest at the suspense and anticipation. Could he be about to ask what she thought he was going to ask? Was it that simple?

"Ask away," she all but whispered.

"I vas vondering if you vould-"

"Hermione! _There _you are!" Draco Malfoy exclaimed, jogging up to her.

Hermione tensed. This was bloody typical of him to show up early and at such an inopportune moment. Plus, he had called her by her first name; was he up to something or was he just being cordial? Who was she kidding? This was Malfoy – it was bound to be the former, for even after they agreed to be civil they still addressed each other using last names.

"Not now, Malfoy," she hissed.

He ignored her.

"All right, Krum?" he addressed Viktor confidently, standing way too close to Hermione for her liking.

"A vriend of yours, Her-mee-own-ee?" Something within Viktor's inflection made him seem slightly put out.

"Yes," Draco answered before Hermione could, trying his best to conceal his laughter at Viktor's mispronunciation.

Hermione squeaked indignantly and tried to barge Draco away, but he manoeuvred around her and yanked her away by the wrist towards the back of the library, but most importantly for Draco, _away _from Viktor. He ran his free hand through his hair and tried to calm his breathing down. That was way too close for his liking. The last thing he needed was bloody competition. Up until just now he had found consolation in the fact that Granger was perhaps a good selection on the basis that no one else would actually want to take her to the Ball. Well bollocks to that theory, now!

Draco was gripping Hermione's wrist so tightly that she didn't dare fight against him, lest her whole arm be pulled out of its socket. All she could do was shoot an apologetic look towards Viktor as she was pulled away from him… and her chances of finally getting a date.

_Damn Malfoy to hell, _she thought as they reached the far wall of the room.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the third floor corridor, Daphne was also heading towards the library, planning to accidentally-on-purpose, bump into him. Draco had walked in and out of their common room in a flash about ten minutes after Charms had ended, and had winked at Pansy knowingly as he passed through the lounge area.

Unfortunately for her, Pansy had jumped at the chance to spill the beans to Daphne about what she and Draco had planned, all the while hoping to unnerve her and piss her off.

Unfortunately for _Pansy,_ her goading did quite the opposite to Daphne. She figured that if Pansy was going to play dirty by helping Draco, then Daphne was going to play dirty by doing the best she could to sabotage Draco's efforts with Granger.

_To be continued..._

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**A/N: **Thank you for reading, you're awesome! All of your support means a lot, each new follower, favourite and review this story receives make me happyyy! :D


	7. 16th December (Part 3)

**A/N: **A big big thank you to everyone who has put this story on alert and reviewed - it's always good for an extra boost of motivation to pick up the pace with my writing for this, so thanks you're all amazing!

This was such a fun chapter to write and I hope you all have just as much fun reading.

* * *

**Snakes and Lions **

**9 days until the Yule Ball – Part 3**

"What the hell did you do that for?" Hermione spat. She wrenched her wrist from Draco's grasp as his grip slackened.

"Ouch! Merlin, talk about friction burns Granger!" he shot back, rubbing his palm with his other hand. For once he hadn't been exaggerating: Hermione could see that the palm of his left hand was bright pink and looked incredibly sore. However in that moment, she could muster very little sympathy for the Slytherin. She had been so close to clinching a date with Viktor Krum, and this prat had ruined it right at the last second.

"Answer the question," she demanded as quietly as she could, almost forgetting that they were in the library.

Against Draco's better judgement, he couldn't help but turn the screw a little more.

"What happened to our little agreement about asking questions that aren't relevant to Charms, Granger?" he smirked at her.

"And what happened to me telling to you stop smirking?" Due to Hermione's rage, the words were out of her mouth before she had time to think about what she was saying. It was a pathetic comeback, and both of them knew it.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her and sank down on a chair next to the window. "As I recall, I said that to you first."

Hermione shot him a look that signalled to him that she wasn't in the mood for their usual banter. "Sorry," he continued, "what's this all about anyway? Why are you so annoyed?" He already knew the answer but if it would calm her down and lower the chances of her hexing his balls off, he would take it.

_Maybe because you almost dislocated my shoulder, _Hermione thought irritably. She decided not to speak her thoughts aloud though: too much had happened in one day for her to have the energy to argue with Malfoy. She sighed and lowered herself onto the seat next to his, placing her Charms books onto the table in front of them.

"If my instinct is right, which is usually is, Viktor was about to ask me to be his date for the Yule Ball," she said, considerably calmer than before. For some reason she felt comfortable talking to Malfoy about this, which was strange on so many levels.

"I didn't realise you had a thing for him," Draco replied through gritted teeth. He willed her to say 'no', mainly because it would effectively mean he would almost certainly lose the bet, and he didn't much fancy having to make a public disclosure of his 'feelings' for a girl he knew liked someone else; it was bad enough that Granger was a Mudblood whom he'd taunted for the last three years or so.

"It's complicated," Hermione said, "I mean he's good looking, _really_ good looking actually, but there are one or two communication issues."

Draco leant forwards on his elbows on the table. "I'm confused. If you aren't completely smitten with him like every other bloody girl in the school is, then why the hissy fit when I dragged you away?"

"Draco Malfoy, do I detect a hint of jealousy?" she raised her eyebrows at him.

For a moment, Draco's heart almost jumped out of his throat. His first reaction was that she was implying that he was jealous about her feelings for Viktor, which he was, but simply because of the bet. He'd sooner face a herd of angry Hippogriffs before admitting or even allowing himself to have feelings for the girl in his company. The thought of it alone was the kind of thing that haunted Draco's nightmares – and that wasn't regarding the Hippogriffs.

After a few moments he understood what she meant and he regained his composure.

"No," he muttered, "as if I'd be jealous of someone like him! I probably have more brain cells than he shares with his entire family. Most girls would like him just because he's famous, anyway."

"Draco!" Hermione scolded half-heartedly, for his words had reduced her to a fit of the giggles. "What?" she asked when she took notice of the strange look Draco was giving her.

"You called me Draco," he stated.

"Nice observation skills, there," Hermione rolled her eyes, "what's the problem? I thought we were doing that now; you called me Hermione not two minutes ago."

Draco decided not to explain the real reason he had addressed her by her first name, which was that he wanted to convey a certain impression to Viktor and throw her off guard for a couple of seconds for good measure. He chose to take the easy route and play along.

"Well, I thought we were being cordial now," he shrugged, "where's Scar-head anyway?"

Hermione glared at him and he continued, "what? No one said anything about me being civil to him as well."

"He should be down in a minute," she said.

"So while we wait, are you going to tell me why it bothered you so much when I dragged you away?"

"Only if you tell me why you dragged me away in the first place," she countered.

"Fine. I'll answer first. Basically, as my tutor, I didn't think it very professional of you to be putting your social life before your 'students' as it were," Draco said smugly.

"I should have known it would have something to do with you having to be centre of attention," Hermione muttered.

"You asked," he shot back.

"Touché," she said, "but in my defence, you arrived earlier than we discussed. Anyway, this disagreement I had with Ron ended up with me telling him that I already had a date to the Ball, which I don't. So I need to find a date, lest all of my dignity be shredded. Viktor has been the only person who has seemed likely to want to go with me." She decided to leave out her deal she made with Ginny.

Draco was rather interested to learn this. How opportune that Hermione was in a similar predicament as he was. It was overwhelmingly tempting to tell her that he needed a date too, but this was Hermione Granger he was dealing with. She wouldn't agree without first knowing all of the in's and out's of the bet, and she certainly wouldn't agree when she learned that his triumph would be at Potter's expense.

Although, it couldn't hurt to mention that he simply didn't have a date…

"Well if it makes you – and that motor mouth of yours – feel any better, I haven't got a date myself yet. I think your humiliation of some claim you made in the midst of an argument will be lessened somewhat by the embarrassment I shall feel."

"Ha – your self-righteous attitude finally coming back to haunt you?" Hermione teased in return for his 'motor mouth' comment.

"Must be," Draco shrugged.

"But what about Parkinson?" Hermione couldn't help but ask.

Draco frowned. "What _about _Parkinson?"

"I just presumed you two were an item, what with the sickening way you're all over each other all the time."

"You mean the way _she's _all over _me _all the time. However I concur that it is indeed, rather sickening," he gave a kind of side-ways half smile to her, and Hermione decided not to push her luck too far with this line of questioning.

"Sorry about your hand," she decided to change the subject so Draco wouldn't get his wand in a knot over her 'interrogations' again.

"Thanks, it's still quite sore though," he said, examining his left palm. Hermione glanced over and saw that the skin looked very raw. This time, she felt quite guilty about what she had done.

"Let me have a look," she said, reaching for his hand, which Draco snatched away.

"Stop being a baby, you won't get Mudblood germs or anything," she quipped, jumping to conclusions for the reason Draco had flinched.

"What are you going to do?" he asked suspiciously.

"I know a couple of spells that could lessen the irritation."

"Of course you do," Draco replied wearily. He stretched his hand out to her.

She gingerly took hold of the underside of his hand so she could examine his palm. Once again, she flinched slightly at the sudden burst of warmth that seemed to radiate from Draco's pale skin.

He took a sharp intake of breath and Hermione jumped, "What?" she asked a little breathlessly.

"Are your hands always this cold, Granger?" he asked back. There was a slight hitch to his voice that he couldn't quite explain. _And are they always this soft? _His mind wanted to ask. Then his rational thoughts kicked in, _What?! NO. You can't think that, this is Hermione Granger. You're Draco Malfoy. You were practically put on this earth to get on each other's nerves._

Hermione didn't quite know how to respond to that. If Draco had been on form, his question would have been conveyed in his usual whiny, complacent tone; however this was lost when their hands had touched; he was taken aback that the girl's hands hadn't been dry and coarse from years of handling thousand year-old books every day as he thought they'd be.

She looked up at Draco, expecting his face to show discomfort, disgust and denial that he was, to an outsider, essentially holding hands with her in a public place. There was discomfort, yes, but neither of the other emotions she had anticipated. Her mouth kept opening and closing but no words would come.

Draco regained his composure first.

"I must say, I take it as a huge compliment that my undeniable good looks is enough to stun you into silence," he drawled.

Hermione curled her lip and scoffed, "Don't flatter yourself," she said lightly.

"See that's the thing, that's what I do so you best get used to it," Draco responded.

He was a little shocked that they hadn't even begun the 'lesson' yet and they seemed to be bearing each other's company just fine. That is, carrying out this plan didn't feel like the chore he first thought it would be. In fact, he might go as far to think that they were _getting along._

"What do you mean by that?" she asked suspiciously as she took out her wand to soothe the irritation on Draco's hand.

"Er, you know, because you're going to be helping me with Charms the next few days." He improvised, feeling stupid for letting his guard down and mentioning that she should 'get used to it' I.E – because he had a bet to win.

"Oh," Hermione replied. She decided not to say anymore and started to heal Draco's wound, "_Alcedonia," _she said, focusing her attention on his hand.

Draco's hand instantly began tingling; for a split second he thought Hermione had tricked him and but a burning jinx on him instead. However, the sensation subsided quickly and he felt the heat seem to drain from his hand, like a mini ice storm had passed over him.

"Thanks…Hermione," he said, smiling at her. It still felt totally alien addressing her by her first name, but he would have to 'get used to it' as he had told her earlier.

"No problem," she smiled back. She noticed that they were still holding hands across the table even though she had done the spell. For a second, she could swear she felt Draco's thumb twitch and briefly stroke hers. Was she crazy to think that? Who was she kidding? She had had two civil conversations with Malfoy in one day and was now holding hands with him – she was definitely crazy.

"Am I interrupting?" a voice cut through the air, and Hermione and Draco simultaneously snatched their hands away. Hermione whipped around, blushing furiously to be caught in such a position, and with Draco Malfoy of all people. The voice belonged to Harry.

"No," she said, smiling at her friend despite her embarrassment. Merlin, if she could run away and hide up in her dorm for the rest of the year, she would: Gryffindor or not.

"Yes," Draco said at the same time. Scar-head had bloody awful timing: he was finally getting somewhere with Hermione and now Potter was going to ruin everything.

Harry was utterly bewildered, "What's he doing here?" he asked, pointing at Draco, "and _why _were you holding his hand?"

"Harry," Hermione said as calmly as she could, "Draco's here for the same reason you are actually, apparently Professor Flitwick wanted him to have some tuition, and he hurt his hand so I was just healing it for him."

Harry frowned, "Draco?!"

"Yes, Potter that is my name. Well done," Draco said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Look Harry, this is why I was late getting to the common room. Draco and I started talking and decided it would be best to be cordial to one another, hence why I decided to help him just now," Hermione explained.

She was surprised when Harry didn't argue any further and sank into a seat on the other side of her. Where was the speech about how Draco had bullied them all incessantly for years and shouldn't be given a second chance? Where was the childish tantrum and refusal to study with him in a three-foot radius, if even at all?

Unbeknownst to Hermione, Harry's initial annoyance and confusion was merely pushed aside to make room for a sudden realisation that had hit him. He had sat down on the chair from the sheer effort of having to process the wild notion, trying to think of any reason it couldn't be true…yet all of the evidence told him that it _was._

He had to tell Ron: Maybe he could shed some light onto the thought.

But before he was going to rile up his best friend over this, Harry decided to grit his teeth and bear Malfoy's company for the next hour or so, just to prove or disprove his theory. The blond git was lucky Harry had just had a lightbulb moment - else he'd be on the receiving end of an Instant-Scalping hex.

"Fine," he said, nodding curtly to Malfoy and taking out his Charms book.

"Okay," Hermione said slowly, a little confused at Harry's acceptance. She wanted to question him but decided against it in case she dropped herself in it like she did with the whole 'date' situation, "so I think we should practice banishing charms, for it can benefit you both. From what I've seen Draco just needs to refine his wand movement to make the spell work and you, Harry just have to work on getting more power behind it so you can banish larger objects like-"

"A fifty foot-long dragon?" Harry cut in dryly.

"And you say _I'm _dramatic?" Draco leant over and whispered to Hermione. She was about to reprimand him for his comment when another familiar face stepped into view.

"Draco! _There _you are!" Daphne exclaimed.

Draco tensed in his seat and scowled up at the blonde girl, though the two Gryffindors, who were also looking toward Daphne, didn't see this as Draco was sat furthest away, by the window. He knew immediately that Daphne was here to sabotage. The main giveaway was how she eerily echoed what he had said to Hermione earlier in order to get her away from Krum.

"Pansy said you'd be here," she said cryptically.

"What do you want?" Draco snapped, letting Daphne know that he was on to her.

Despite his efforts, Daphne seemed unperturbed by this and sank into the remaining empty chair at their table; apparently she had no qualms about not being invited to do so.

"Oh, are you joining us?" Hermione asked; feeling rather bemused by the whole thing.

"I may as well do since I've got homework to catch up on," Daphne lied with ease. She maintained her charade by taking out some textbooks, a piece of parchment, quill and pot of ink from her bag and placing them on the table, "don't mind me, just carry on," she said, pretending to read _The Standard Book Of Spells: Grade 4_.

Hermione bristled and squeaked indignantly at the forwardness and audacity of the Slytherin girl, who didn't seem to take notice of her protests. On any other day Hermione would have promptly dismissed her, or tried to at least, but just too many strange things had happened so far that she didn't have the energy to argue.

She turned to address Harry but came face to face with a mass of black hair on the back of his head instead. She peeked around his shoulder to see that he was looking at Daphne, though his expression was unreadable. Almost as if she sensed his eyes on her, Daphne looked up from her book and locked eyes with Harry through her rectangular glasses. Her eyes widened momentarily, she swallowed hard and quickly looked down again. As if that wasn't enough, Hermione turned her head forwards in enough time to see Daphne smirk evilly in Draco's direction, who glared at her in response.

Hermione looked between Daphne and Draco in confusion. She wondered what had happened between the two of them. Eventually, she told herself to not let her mind play on it, because the situation was bloody bizarre enough as it was.

"So, banishing charms." Hermione said awkwardly to no one in particular.

"Yes." Harry and Draco said simultaneously, both of their heads snapping up to face her in perfect synchronisation. Hermione tried not to giggle at this but it proved to be more than difficult.

"Now, now Granger act professional," Draco drawled. She proceeded to kick him in the shin under the table, and he moaned in pain at the impact.

"That didn't hurt," Hermione told him coolly. He sneered at her and she smiled playfully at him. Beside her, Harry cleared his throat and she tried to focus again.

"Right, so Draco, you can have a go first. I took the liberty of shrinking my pillow and bringing it from the common room so we can practice," she said, removing a tiny pillow from her robes pockets, and enlarging it back to full size.

"Impressive," Draco commented.

Hermione didn't know if he was being sarcastic or not so decided to ignore him, "Harry, why don't you look through the spell books I brought whilst I help Draco. Try and find anything that may be useful in the Tournament," she ordered.

"That'd be a bit difficult since I don't even know what the next task is going to be," Harry muttered, taking his frustration out on his friend whose main priority was apparently to help Malfoy of all people, over him.

"And whose fault is that?" Hermione shot back icily, narrowing her eyes at him.

Harry conceded that he had walked right into that one, so didn't argue any further. He dragged a book towards him and started leafing through the pages, all the while not actually reading and instead focusing his attention on Hermione and Malfoy.

Hermione turned her attention back to Draco. She rose from her seat, stacked up a pile of books a little way away from the table and placed the pillow on top.

"Okay, use the banishing charm we learnt in class on the pillow," she said.

Draco turned slightly in his chair and lazily lifted his wand. Before he could say the spell, Hermione cut across him,

"Stand up, please."

"Why?" he asked. She was getting on his nerves already and they'd only just begun their tuition session. _This kiss between Daphne and Potter better be bloody worth it,_ he thought.

"So I can see what you're doing more clearly," Hermione replied.

"Fine," Draco snapped. He stood up and stretched himself out as he had done in their earlier Charms lesson, "you know, part of me just thinks you're doing this so you can ogle me," he commented, continuing to stretch. This time he decided to up the ante. He removed his school robes and stretched out pretty much every part of his upper body as slowly as he could: from his shoulders to his back, even to lacing his fingers together and stretching his arms out. Truth be told, he felt like an utter prat, but he knew how the female mind worked (to some degree) and now that Hermione had heard his comment, she would begin to take notice of his body. After all, Granger may be unfeminine in many senses but in the hormones department, she was very much the same as every other girl.

Daphne may be able to sabotage his smooth-talking charm, but she was powerless to prevent him from using his 'physical charm' as it were.

Hermione had acted like a puppet on a string. Sure enough, when Draco made that complacent remark, she automatically began to look at him, despite her rational thoughts screaming that this was wrong on so many levels. After all, rationally, she wouldn't be taken in by his arrogant display, but her subconscious was telling another story. She always knew that Draco was thin, but she had never thought about the possibility that he would be somewhat _toned _as well. Hell, she had never _wanted _to think about it, but the proof was staring at her; his school jumper and shirt were hiked up when he stretched his arms above his head, just as Viktor's had done earlier. The muscles of his abdomen weren't as obviously defined and prominent as Viktor's, but they were still very much noticeable.

Apparently Quidditch was more of a physically demanding sport than she had given it credit for, and in spite of everything and her history with this boy, she had to admit, if only to herself, that Draco Malfoy was undeniably damn good looking. It's a shame that such handsome features had to go to waste on someone as infuriating as he was, especially because on some level, he had a right to brag about his looks.

"Is this clear enough for you?" Draco smirked as he caught Hermione looking.

She blushed at being noticed. Merlin, he would never let her live this down now.

Daphne had also been watching, and caught on to Draco's tactics immediately. She just hadn't been expecting that reaction from Granger at all. Daphne wondered what they had actually talked about before Draco returned to the common room earlier that evening, and she wondered if she had underestimated Draco's 'abilities'. This thought made her worry, so she needed to act fast.

"You aren't seriously going to fall for that are you Granger? I thought you were supposed to be smart," Daphne snorted, shaking her head at the other girl.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked back.

"That," Daphne said, gesturing towards Draco, "that's like a 'move' of his to hit on girls when giving them compliments and flirting with them doesn't work. It's become a speciality of his."

"Pfft," Hermione exhaled in disbelief, "we may be civil to one another now but in the hour or so that we have agreed to that, not once has Draco given me a compliment!"

"Well with you there would be different circumstances," Daphne explained with no hesitation, "you've had a bad history with him up until now so don't you think that him openly apologising to you and calling a truce would be the equivalent to complimenting a girl whom has no past conflicts with him?"

As soon as Daphne said this, Hermione began to see the logic behind it. It made sense. But was it true? She had never noticed Draco having romantic intentions with anyone besides Pansy; however she was never really looking.

This was also news to Harry, who was still pretending to be engrossed in the textbook. So many snippets of information were being exchanged that he was having trouble keeping up. Despite this, he had learnt one or two things that, unfortunately, backed up his earlier assumptions.

Draco scowled at Daphne. He couldn't believe how manipulative she was being. He'd be impressed if her sneaky actions wouldn't consequently bite him in the arse… stupid bet…

"That was a very impressive lie, Greengrass. It's a shame there's no evidence to back up your claims," he drawled, trying to act as if her words hadn't affected him.

"There doesn't need to be evidence. I'm sure Granger has a good enough reading on you to judge the truth behind what I said for herself," Daphne answered, looking back down to her book.

"Thanks Daphne," Hermione said uncertainly. Truth be told, she was fairly sure that Daphne was lying, as Draco had said. However she had her own reasons; she wasn't just backing up Draco. Something was obviously going on between the two of them, so frankly, Hermione didn't trust either of them. She would rely on her instinct alone, and it was telling her that Daphne _had _to be lying, because if she weren't, that would mean that Draco had been attempting to flirt with her, and Merlin knows why he would do that.

…_But there was the whole 'hand holding' thing…and he did mention not having a date to the Ball… No Hermione, stop it! Just keep an open mind about it. Or, try at least. It won't last long but for now just focus on getting through this with your sanity still in tact. _

After a couple of minutes arguing with her own brain, Hermione decided to listen to herself and worry about this tomorrow. Evidently, two Slytherins were too much to handle at once.

Somehow, she managed to get through the lesson, albeit with one or two interruptions from Daphne. The blonde disarmed Draco when Hermione reached for his hand to demonstrate the correct wand motion to him, to name one example. But the hour had finally come to an end, and Harry had learnt a couple of new spells so all things considered, Hermione thought it to be a success.

Both Daphne and Harry seemed a little put out by the end, and had slunk off whilst Hermione was gathering her belongings together. Draco hung behind too.

'"Why didn't you go with Daphne?" Hermione inquired.

"Things are a little…dicey between us," Draco replied, stretching again and rubbing his eyes.

"What? did you ask her to the Ball and get turned down?" She joked, "or did you ask someone else? If that happened I'm sure Pansy wouldn't be too happy about it, and Daphne's a friend of hers so maybe that's why you two are on edge around each other."

Draco became uncomfortable with the way the conversation was headed, so decided to make a break for it too. It was a shame that Hermione had to be so nosy, for he had hung behind for the sole reason of asking her to the Ball. Despite Daphne's interference, he had an inkling that Hermione saw right through her. "I'm way too tired for more interrogation, Granger. Ask me again tomorrow, or never. Both work for me. I'm going to head to the common room too."

"Oh and Hermione," he said as he started to walk away, "thanks for your effort tonight but I don't think we managed to make much progress, what with Greengrass and all.'

"You're right, shall we meet here again tomorrow, just the two of us?" Hermione flushed when she saw Draco smirk at her. She knew how it must have sounded to him, "oh grow up," she added.

"See you tomorrow, Granger," Draco laughed. He turned and Hermione watched him walk away, slightly confused. Did that response mean just 'see you in class' or 'yes, we will meet again tomorrow'? Hermione shook her head and shrunk down her pillow again. She conceded that it might not be a bad thing that she wouldn't have to tutor Draco again the next day: an hour just now was enough to mentally drain her.

Outside in the third floor corridor, Harry and Daphne were engaged in a conversation that was not entirely dissimilar to the one she and Draco had just had.

_To be continued..._

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**A/N: **This was my favourite chapter so far, but I have big plans for what happens at the weekend when that comes around (21st-22nd December in this timeline). I can't wait to get started on those parts.

Sorry that Daphne's part kind of took a back seat - it was originally intended to be the main focus of the chapter but I ended up taking a different path - I think it still worked well though.

The spell Hermione used: I searched around for healing spells actually known to the series, but none of them were really appropriate for Draco's 'wound' so I made _Alcedonia _up. The Latin translation is 'calm' as in soothe (the irritation).

I hope you enjoyed this part and if you're a new reader, I hope you're enjoying this story so far. Reviews are always appreciated :)


	8. 17th December (Part 1)

**A/N: **Sorry for the slightly delayed update, been so busy this week. Thank you everyone who's reviewed, and special thank-yous to _OuiSexSi, galaapple12, Fanpire'2, jeny3329 and Consulting-Prussian _for reviewing more than once and supporting this story. (Also to any of you guest reviewers who may have reviewed more than once).

Just a note, where the page break is, the two parts may not necessarily flow with one another as each half focuses on different characters and I'm sorry for that but if I moved sections around with later chapters I would have ended up with one 7K word chapter and a 1K one so this seemed the best way.

As always, happy reading!:)

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**The Broom Cupboard**

**8 days until the Yule Ball - Part 1**

"Lemme get this straight. You think that Hermione, _Hermione Granger_, is going to the Ball with that no-good, smarmy, ferret-y bastard, Draco Malfoy?" Ron exclaimed incredulously as Harry disclosed his thoughts based on what he heard and witnessed the previous night.

The two boys were sat in the common room, and Harry willed Ron to keep his voice down – mainly because he still wasn't a hundred per cent sure and he didn't want the entirety of Gryffindor house to overhear. After all, he had been wrong about things before in the past… Hell, he wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw for good reason!

"Yes, but-" Harry said.

"And you are _calm _about it?!"

"Yes –"

"_And _you're willingly letting Daphne Greengrass help you prepare for the Tournament over Hermione tonight?!"

"Bloody hell, Ron, will you be quiet!" Harry snapped.

Ron clenched his jaws together and scowled at Harry. He was completely still, as if waiting for his friend to dare to explain himself. He didn't move for a good thirty seconds or so, barely even blinking in fact. Harry began to wonder if Ron was even remembering to breathe.

He clapped Ron on the back just to be sure and the redhead expelled a breath. Harry thought it best to jump in before Ron could regain his composure.

"Okay, you weren't there: you don't know how bloody _strange _Malfoy and Hermione were being together, so please try and trust my judgement. At least for now," Harry implored his friend, knowing him well enough to know that unless he made such a request, Ron would be protesting and refuting practically everything Harry said on the subject.

Ron shrugged and grumbled inaudibly. Harry decided to take this as him agreeing to what he had said, "Great," Harry commented in a monotone voice. He decided to check to see if there was anybody lurking around who could potentially eavesdrop, but the other groups of students in the room were otherwise engaged in their own conversations, and the hum of chatter was enough to prevent attention being drawn to the discussion he was currently having with Ron.

Satisfied, Harry began, "Honestly, I got the impression of the Hermione-going-with-Malfoy thing pretty much as soon as I arrived at the library,"

"Why?" Ron couldn't help but cut in.

"I was getting to that," Harry said a little tensely, "just remember to keep your voice down."

"Mate, I'm imagining all sorts here, just tell me!"

"They were holding hands," Harry explained bluntly. There was no way of sugar coating that particular scene he witnessed.

"You what?" Ron spluttered.

"For Merlin's sake, shush! Do you want me to put a silencing charm on you?" Harry warned. Ron didn't need to know that he didn't actually know how to perform such a spell yet…

"Sorry," Ron mumbled, "did Hermione say _why_?" He couldn't even begin to imagine such a thing happening. It had to be a lie. Harry must have overlooked something.

"Apparently Malfoy hurt his hand and she was healing it for him with magic."

"That sounds even more stupid!" Ron couldn't help but exclaim incredulously from the shock he felt. Several people looked in their direction but he was past the point of caring, "Why would she do that just out of the blue? What the bloody hell has that git done to deserve her sympathy?"

"He asked for a truce with her…" Harry's voice trailed off and he removed his glasses to rub his eyes. This sounded ten times more ridiculous spoken out loud than in his head. Harry was actually there when everything came out but in that moment he didn't even believe his own memory.

"When?"

"Yesterday. That's why she came back late from Charms. To tell the truth I reckon that's when Malfoy asked her to the Ball. Hermione's been going on about how he's been acting strange. She was wrong about the Moody thing so it's logical that Malfoy's behaviour was his way of weakening Hermione's defences so he could reach out to her and ask her out."

Ron's expression was reminiscent of how it usually looked when he read the first question of every exam they had taken so far at Hogwarts.

"You know what you're saying, right? Do you need your ears cleaning out?" Ron joked, trying to coax Harry out of his own prank that he was evidently pulling on him, "Because I could help if you do. Dad collects these Muggle things called cotton buds that are used for clearing out earwax. Bloody disgusting if you ask me, but Fred and George found the brilliance in it, decided to Spellotape loads together to tickle the ghoul in my attic through the holes in my ceiling…"

"Ron this isn't a joke," Harry said seriously, though he made a mental note to ask Ron to continue his story at some point later. Ron's face fell and he cleared his throat to speak.

"Actually now you come to mention it, this doesn't mean that Hermione actually wanted to go with him. We both had a feeling that she was lying that day when we were talking about the Ball and she got all huffy and told us that she already had a date. Maybe we were right and she was just so desperate to cover the lie up that she agreed to go with Malfoy." Ron spoke his thoughts aloud, and by the end was pretty certain that he had found a logical solution.

"As much as I want to believe that theory, I don't," Harry sighed, "I walked in on them holding hands remember?"

"Well if what you say about the truce thing was right, then that kinda makes the whole healing thing more believable…"

"Hm. Only Malfoy's hand looked fine which means they were still holding hands _after _she healed him."

"Bloody hell," Ron said, scratching his head, "are you sure this wasn't some weird Hermione clone or something?"

"If only," Harry mumbled.

"Why are you so calm about this?" Ron asked, sitting forwards and propping his elbows on his lap.

"Honestly, I was just about as shocked and pissed as you were last night, but you've got to admit that Malfoy hasn't been as annoying over the last week or so, to Hermione at least. What I mean is, maybe it's a good thing that he and Hermione have called a truce: she could keep him in check for one thing, and weirdly enough they seemed to be getting on just fine yesterday. Maybe spending a couple of minutes as a ferret gave Malfoy a reality check and made him grow up a little."

"Has it ever occurred to you that this could all be a trick to humiliate Hermione? You know what the bloody Slytherins are like!" Ron couldn't believe what Harry was saying, what was happening to everybody? Had the world finally gone mad?

"If it was all a trick do you really think Hermione's embarrassment would be enough incentive for Malfoy to hold hands with a 'filthy Mudblood' as he has often called her?" Harry shot back. _And no, I don't know what the Slytherins are like... I thought I did…_

"Well no but… Merlin, Harry. Are you telling me that Malfoy might _like _her, like _fancy _her?"

"I don't know. But I think _Hermione_ likes _him_."

"What?!"

Harry really didn't want to reveal more details, but he wanted Ron to accept it to a degree, if only if it was for an ulterior motive of Harry's. Malfoy wasn't the only Slytherin to have apparently simmered down recently. Daphne had too. And Harry had grown a soft spot for her, even though she was still a little rough around the edges. This is why he was so accepting; it was possible that Hermione was experiencing the same thing with Malfoy, and Harry found this comforting to know. It made him feel slightly less insane that he wasn't the only one being taken in by the Slytherins.

"Don't you think Hermione would have been able to see right through him if he was playing games? Anyway," Harry took a deep breath, "there's something else."

"Oh bloody hell I don't like the sound of this," Ron ran his hands down his face. He braced himself and listened to Harry.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable about having to retell this story, Harry explained the bizarre scene of Malfoy's stretching, Hermione's unexpected reaction and the blond's reasons for doing so (as implied by Daphne), as succinctly as possible.

"That's how Malfoy flirts? And Hermione fell for it?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded, "Still don't believe me that he could be Hermione's date?"

"Bloody hell."

"Hear, hear," Harry laughed humorlessly.

"I still don't want to believe it, but I s'pose I'll go with it for now," Harry sighed in relief at Ron's words, and the redhead continued, "doesn't mean I'm happy about it, mind you. Frankly I don't trust Malfoy, or any of the Slytherins for that matter,"

"You can't deny that he and Daphne have been slightly more civil to us."

"Hm. You know I kind of want to confront Hermione about this. See what she's playing at."

"Don't," Harry warned, "Hermione's rattled enough about the whole date thing as it is, and like I said, there's still no solid proof that she's going to the Ball with Malfoy."

Ron seemed to reluctantly accept that he wouldn't be getting any straight answers that easily, and said no more on the subject.

"Oh yeah, so why are you letting Greengrass tutor you tonight?" Ron quizzed.

"I don't want to witness a repeat of what happened last night, Daphne didn't either, she offered to help instead," Harry summed up evasively. He could tell that his judgement would now be in Ron's firing line over Hermione's.

Ron raised his eyebrows, "And aren't you a little worried that she'd somehow mess with you and teach you bloody useless spells to use in the Tournament. Sorry mate, but it sounds like you've got a death wish to me," Ron saw Harry visibly tense at the last comment and hastily added, "sorry. I'm just confused."

"Me too," Harry said wearily, "it's completely nuts, but Daphne was pretty nice to me when we talked about this last night. I don't know, I just, kind of understand if Hermione has a thing for Malfoy. Merlin, I must sound completely insane. I can't explain it, but…" His words hung in the air. Harry was at a loss at what to say.

At that moment, Fred and George appeared.

"What are you two talking about?" Fred raised an eyebrow. His tone gave away the fact that he and George already knew the answer to the question.

"Doesn't matter," Ron mumbled.

"Nothing," Harry said at the same time.

"Really?" George laughed, "Because from what our impeccable hearing gathered, little brother, your friends are smitten with the snakes."

Harry turned red, as did Ron's ears.

"Oh and I suppose that you two geniuses know of a possible explanation?" Ron said sarcastically, utterly thrown as to why even Fred and George weren't completely repulsed by their observation.

"As a matter of fact-" George started.

"We do," Fred finished for him.

"Go on then, let's hear it," Ron sighed.

"Hormones," the twins said together.

Ron flushed. He was never comfortable with this particular subject, and hadn't been since his parents had given him 'the talk' in the summer.

"What?" Harry asked. This subject was totally new to him.

"Allow us to educate you, young Gryffindors," Fred grinned. The twins squashed up beside Ron on the sofa.

"Correct us if we're wrong, but the upcoming Yule Ball is making you notice the alien species of girls," he continued. Harry and Ron shared uncomfortable expressions, and George cut in.

"I think we'll take that as a yes, Freddie."

"Righty-O George," Fred laughed, "now you two are fourteen now. Awkward, lanky, speccy teenagers."

"HEY!" Ron and Harry exclaimed at the same time.

"Point is," Fred continued, "your brain goes mental at that age. Suddenly girls are attractive, and don't have germs like you always thought they did when you were a kid."

"Yeah and girls start changing," George winked, holding his hands against his chest in a slightly arched shape. Fred snickered but Harry and Ron just blushed and shuffled uncomfortably.

"Are you getting to this 'hormones' stuff or what?" Ron said, willing this conversation to be over.

"Patience," the twins glared slightly at Ron.

Fred spoke again, "at the same time your brain goes mental, your hormones start going loopy as well."

"Makes you think you're going mad, completely throws off your sane judgement," George continued.

"Makes you get weird crushes on people. They could have the worst personality on earth but your hormones cloud your rational thinking and can make anyone seem attractive."

Ron was gaping at his brothers, "I don't think I like you two being smart like this… it's scary."

"We have our moments," George grinned, "but it's no picnic learning this stuff sometimes. You've had it easy, Ron. Bill learnt the hard way."

"Yeah, when Mum was pregnant with Ginny," Fred added.

"Oh bloody hell," Ron buried his face in his hands. Across from him, Harry would have loved nothing more than to run away to class, which was saying a lot.

"Pregnant women get hormonal too," Fred explained.

"And it's not pretty," George remarked, "Bill was in his early years at Hogwarts, only to be taught by a certain Professor whom Mum had a not-so-secret hormone-induced crush on."

"Who?" Ron knew that in the next ten seconds he would regret asking.

"Only the best-known Gryffindor-hating, greasy, beaky teacher here," Fred said.

"SNAPE?" Harry and Ron spluttered.

"The very same," George shuddered in his seat, "but that's hormones for you."

"And from what Harry said earlier about Hermione staring at Malfoy, I'd say she is suffering from the same thing, so don't be too hard on her if it turns out she does fancy him, Ron," Fred said, clapping his little brother on the back and using him as support so he could get up from the sofa.

"Yeah, she'll soon get over it. She'll be back to hating his guts and hexing his ferret-y backside in no time," George laughed and the twins started to walk off.

Harry felt a little more comfortable with the strange Daphne situation after that little impromptu life lesson. _Yes, hormones, that had to be it…_

"Of course we could be wrong," the twins winked and walked through the portrait hole.

_Shit. _Harry thought to himself. _Talk about a false sense of security._

"'Well that was bloody anti-climactic," Ron commented, "Do you think they were having us on?"

"No, I think we should take their word for it, it seems to explain things that aren't adding up: Hermione not being able to see through Malfoy's game for one thing, if he's even playing one," Harry said quickly, "anyway, I think we have more pressing things to worry about. Like finding our own dates to the Ball."

"You know, after that little chat I think I've gone off girls," Ron joked.

"Same here," Harry lied, "but seriously, I think we should act fast before all the girls get dates."

"I s'pose but, it's like, how do you even ask them? They're always walking round with their mates."

"I know but we're just going to have to go for it," Harry said. His words were supposed to be motivational but he felt more terrified than anything else, "how about we do it today? We'll both have a date by tonight, agreed?"

"Oh bloody hell all right then," Ron replied. He rose from his seat and grabbed his school bag off the floor, gesturing to Harry that they should get to lesson, "mind you, I don't know who to ask, do you have any ideas?"

"None at all," Harry lied again. In actual fact, he had a very good idea of who to ask to the Ball… he just didn't know if it was because of hormones, or because he was just plain mental.

Harry's gut was telling him that it was the latter.

The boys left Gryffindor tower discussing potential dates and really just making any conversation that would divert their minds from the fact that Molly Weasley at one point had a crush on Snape.

Meanwhile, inside the tower, one Gryffindor emerged from their hiding place. Fred and George weren't the only two people who had been eavesdropping on Harry and Ron's conversation.

* * *

**An Hour Later...**

When first lesson was over, Hermione stepped out into the corridor with Harry and Ron, and was greeted with several odd looks and pointed fingers from other students. Several people kept glancing in her direction and whispering to one another in hushed tones as they walked through.

"What's going on?" she asked her friends, who both shrugged. They looked about as puzzled as she felt.

"Oi you," Ron said to a small and nervous looking Hufflepuff girl, who had been gossiping with her friends, "Why's everyone staring at Hermione like that?"

"I _can_ speak for myself, Ron," Hermione hissed from his side. Ron ignored her and kept his attention on the girl.

"Apparently she's going with Draco Malfoy to the Yule Ball," the girl said to Ron, "can you believe that? I thought they hated each other."

"Who told you this?" Ron asked, through gritted teeth, his earlier conversation with Harry was still fresh in his mind.

The girl shrugged, "everyone's talking about it."

Hermione tensed. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Hermione!" Draco called to her, having overheard everything the girl said. Overheard… pfft, he was eavesdropping.

Hermione groaned, and turned around. Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

"'Mione, we've got to get to class," Harry told her before Ron could jump in with a lengthy interrogation.

"You two go on, I'll catch up," Hermione replied without looking at him. The boys retreated, leaving Hermione alone with Draco in a corridor full of gossiping students.

"Bugger off you lot," Draco snapped, glaring at the crowd. He could sense Hermione's discomfort and so thought it best to get rid of a few people, which was a shame since he would have found an audience to be rather useful, especially since they all thought Hermione was going to the Ball with him. He ought to thank the mystery person who started the rumour, though he had a sneaky suspicion it was Parkinson's doing.

When nobody moved, Hermione squeaked in annoyance and dragged Draco by the tie into a broom cupboard that lead off from the corridor, slamming the door behind them.

"You know, that probably wasn't a wise move considering that lot already think we're going to the Ball together. I can only imagine the stuff they'll come up with now they know we're alone in a broom cupboard. That Skeeter woman would have a field day," Draco smirked, but Hermione didn't see as she was still facing the door.

Hermione spun around and squeaked again, this time out of surprise, when she whipped Draco in the shoulder with her hair. Merlin, he was so close! Surely it wasn't practical for broom cupboards to be so tiny…

For a second she forgot what she was about to say, for she realised just how close she was standing to Draco. She could see his chest rising and falling with each breath he took, and she could see the long honey-coloured lashed that framed his eyes. Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath to regain her senses, but as she did so her nostrils were filled with pleasant scents of peppermint and vanilla. At first, she thought it was just the smell of the cupboard, but when she opened her eyes, she realised that what she smelt was Draco, and not the cupboard. Dammit, why did he have to smell as good as he looked? It just wasn't fair…

"You all right?" Draco asked uncertainly when Hermione hadn't spoken for a while.

His voice made Hermione's inner babble come to a halt, and she remembered why she had dragged him in here.

"I suppose you think this is funny, do you?" she said firmly, trying to ignore the minty-vanilla-y scent that lingered around them.

"A little, I mean it's not everyday you get dragged into a cupboard by a frizzy-haired little Gryffindor," he replied, smirking again.

Hermione thumped Draco's chest, "Not that you git, the rumours. It was you, wasn't it?"

"Bloody hell Granger, again with the violence?" Draco rubbed his chest, feeling very irritated and confused at the same time, "it wasn't me! Do you honestly think I would have tried to send those people away if I started the rumour? Besides, when, do you suppose I managed to spread it throughout the school? I mean I was just in first lesson with you. Honestly, it's flattering that you think I could have pulled off such a stunt but you really overestimate me."

Hermione didn't know what to say. Truthfully, it had been her first instinct that Draco had started the rumours up as his way of humiliating her. She thought that he set this whole thing up ages ago and used the ploy of a truce to throw her off guard. But then it occurred to her that Draco had always been rather tactless by spurting off juvenile insults to get a rise from her.

"Sorry," she said, though there was a slight edge to her voice.

"I should think so," Draco said in an overly exaggerated hurt tone, "you wound me Granger, and not just in a physical way. But in all seriousness what reason could I possibly have for spreading that rumour? It's at my own expense as well as yours."

Hermione chewed her lip in thought and Draco rolled his eyes. She did that a lot. It must be a habit of hers; after all, wouldn't she always have accidentally caught her lip when she had those hideous buckteeth? She looked much better without them. Draco scrutinised her whilst he waited for a response. She wasn't bad looking. He wouldn't stretch as far as _pretty _but she wasn't ugly by a long chalk. Then again, she would probably benefit from making friends with hair conditioner and clothes that fit her better…

"Draco?" Hermione interrupted his thoughts. A light blush tinted her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose. Damn, she had caught him looking.

"Hm?" He answered.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, sounding a little scared. Hermione wasn't sure why he was looking at her, but it was the same kind of scrutiny he had put her under that day outside Charms when he had apologised to her. She still wasn't sure if she liked it or not.

"Ever heard of hair conditioner, Hermione? I was just thinking it could tame your frizz," Draco improvised. He didn't feel comfortable answering her question; to be honest he didn't even know the answer. _What was that Potter and Weasel were muttering about in last lesson? Oh yes, hormones. That must be it. Granger's a girl, whom I'm in close proximity to. Her infuriating personality aside, it's only logical that I notice her, isn't it?_

His answer had obviously added fuel to Hermione's fire, "I've more important things to be worrying about, I'll have you know. I'm not some shallow, self-centred person whose looks are the top priority."

"Are you insinuating that I am those things? Actually don't answer that," Draco said wearily, "just answer my original question so we can get to class; you're giving me a headache."

"Oh well excuse me for having doubts that you were lying to me when you asked for a truce, and set up this whole rumour to embarrass me and-"

"And excuse me for thinking that you'd actually want to put these childish spats behind us by accepting the truce. But yet, here we are. You know what, I don't know why I even bothered," Draco sneered at her and did his best to manoeuvre around her. It was true, he didn't know why he bothered: there was no way Hermione would agree to go to the Ball with him for real when she wanted to pick a fight from every sarcastic remark he made. He also had to admit, if only to himself, that the truce was a good idea. It was bloody exhausting having to insult Hermione and her friends every time they so much as looked at each other.

Draco had his hand on the door handle but Hermione surprised them both by grabbing his free hand to pull him back. She had underestimated her own strength because Draco ended up falling into her, causing Hermione to fall into the wall. It knocked the wind out of both of them, and Hermione hastily tried to shove Draco's entire body weight off her.

"A little help?" she panted as she struggled to budge him, "kind of suffocating over here."

Draco snorted, "you're on your own Granger. You got yourself into this."

"Ha. And here I was thinking you'd finally grown up," Hermione remarked in laboured breaths.

Draco said nothing but allowed the girl a sense of triumph by rocking forwards on his heels as she pushed against his back, setting them both right once more.

"Well for a small person, that was impressive," he smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled at him, "thanks, I think."

There was a moment of silence. Hermione was still panting from the effort of pushing Draco up and Draco was scrutinising her again; lost in thought.

"Did you mean what you said?" Draco spoke first.

"What about?"

"About me growing up."

"Well, yes. I know you must have felt uncomfortable with the apology at least, what with me being, well, what I am, and you being… you. I thought it was a mature thing to do." Hermione answered, looking up at him.

Draco was surprised. He felt a rare pang of guilt that this girl had given him the benefit of the doubt and had apparently come to respect him over something he did just to win a bet.

Well wasn't this an interesting turn of events? He was actually learning from this!

He didn't particularly like the sappy feelings it brought out in him, though, and there was no way another soul would ever know of it. Ever. Especially Greengrass,

"You still need to answer my question, Granger. Why would I spread that rumour?" He drawled calmly.

"Oh! Yes," Hermione said, "well if what Daphne said last night about you doing that little display of yours to hit on girls was true, then I'd say that's your answer right there."

"You honestly believe I would want to go to the Ball with you?" Draco's tone was neither snarky nor serious. It was simply curiosity. Apparently this bet was affecting Granger and messing with her head just as much as it was to him.

"We should probably get to class," Hermione said, opening the door and stepping into the corridor. She didn't quite know how Draco's question was intended, so she didn't answer.

Draco sighed and followed her. They started walking side-by-side but not directly next to one another. Draco felt slightly disappointed that they had lost the close proximity that the broom cupboard offered, though for a different reason to what one would first think.

The cupboard gave him a sense of security of not having to put on a persona for the judgemental eyes of the students that were everywhere around the open castle grounds. He knew he still had a bet to worry about, but being in the cupboard with just Hermione allowed him to gain some perspective on the situation: neither party had their friends with them to cloud judgement on the other, and the closeness almost forced them to bear one another's presence. It made them communicate, but being loose in the grounds gave both of them the option to run away if needed, and with it, Draco felt scared to break out of his comfort zone by being cordial to Hermione in public. In the cupboard he felt like he could be anyone he wanted to be, which was saying something considering his only company was the most irritating witch in the school. It had felt the same in the library the previous day. At least, before Potter and Greengrass turned up.

Beside him, Hermione was having similar thoughts, though neither communicated their individual insights to the other.

"So, how many girls have you used your 'move' on, exactly?" Hermione asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

Draco rolled his eyes and thrust his hands into his pockets as they continued to walk, "really Granger? You're going to barrage me with questions again? I _will _get my own back for this."

"That's not fair!" Hermione protested, "we were just talking about that, I'm just continuing the conversation."

"What a pathetic excuse," Draco smirked and nudged Hermione in the arm with his elbow, "and I don't think that's any of your business. Why are you so interested? Actually don't answer that; I know it's because you're a nosy little bookworm."

Hermione bristled but didn't comment on Draco's last statement, "it's just that Daphne implied that you've used it on a lot of people, that's all."

"Oh so you automatically believe what Greengrass implies but don't hesitate to accuse me of spreading rumours about us?" Draco sniffed in annoyance.

"No, it's not like that –"

"Then tell me, what _is _it like exactly?" Draco suddenly saw red. "Because from my point of view, it doesn't seem to matter how much effort I put in to be civil to you because you are always going to poke your nose around to try and find a reason not to trust me."

Draco's outburst caught Hermione completely off guard. She didn't feel comfortable explaining herself now that he was so worked up. He wouldn't listen or take her seriously now. His earlier question to her about whether she believed he would want to go to the Ball with her had got her thinking. She only wanted to see if he had a reputation of his own; Viktor's was still an issue for her. Apparently the cupboard was also useful for clouding her judgement, because Draco just demonstrated that he hadn't changed, not really. Serves her right for ogling him the previous day; she couldn't believe she had actually been considering asking him to the Ball.

"You know what, just forget I ever asked. In fact, just forget about the bloody truce altogether. It's not like it was doing much good anyway." Hermione would have flounced away from him if they hadn't arrived at Charms, their second lesson of the day.

Draco growled and clenched his fists. He knew he would regret getting into a fight when there was still a danger that he wouldn't win the bet, but in that moment he really couldn't have cared less. If Granger wanted to be an immature snob then so be it.

Hermione and Draco both tried to enter the room at the same time, squashing and barging each other against the doorframes. Luckily, the class was engaged in a practical session so not too many people looked their way. Unfortunately, Professor Flitwick noticed.

"Where _have _you been?" He snapped, though his squeaky voice removed pretty much all of the annoyance from his words.

"In a cupboard with a Mudblood," Draco muttered under his breath, but Hermione coughed loudly to drown him out.

"Just got held up, Professor. I'm sorry," she said, trying to calm herself down.

"Maybe so, but that still doesn't excuse tardiness. Ten points from Gryffindor and Slytherin, and I'd give you two a detention, but weren't you going to tutor Mr Malfoy again tonight, Miss Granger?"

"I _was_," Hermione muttered. Draco clenched his jaw as he stood beside her. His blood was still boiling.

The Professor didn't seem to pick up on the tension between them, and pressed on, "Splendid! So you can do your tuition in this classroom tonight whilst I grade some essays. I'd say that would class as a detention, so I expect to see both of you here at seven o'clock."

Hermione groaned. Great. Just great. A whole hour of Draco's company after what had just happened… that wouldn't be awkward at all! And that included the cupboard incident as well as their disagreement just now.

Draco's thoughts pretty much echoed Hermione's. They merely grunted their acknowledgements to Professor Flitwick and briefly locked eyes before they headed to their seats. Draco plastered a glare on his face to match the one he expected to get from Hermione; however she didn't look angry, she looked almost sad – talk about mood swings. He swallowed hard and relaxed his mouth, his expression now showing confusion.

Hermione shook her head briefly and she tore her gaze away from him, leaving Draco to wonder what on earth that gesture meant.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**A/N: **Didn't want to leave it there but like I said, this was the best way of spreading the chapters out. Quite a lot happened in this part so hopefully that makes up for the slight update delay :) I hope you guys enjoyed reading! Please review on your way out


	9. 17th December (Part 2)

**A/N: **Cheers for the support, everyone :) Okay, just on a note: please take into account that I am a British writer, and that some words are spelt differently here than in America, so I spell defence with a 'c' and colour with a 'u' and maneouvre instead of maneuver. I'm grateful for those of you who spot these believing them to be typos, but just be aware that with these words anyway, that they are the correct spelling. Thanks, I'll stop rambling now and let you read :)

Enjoy!

* * *

**The Games Continue**

**8 days until the Yule Ball - Part 2**

For what felt like the first time ever, the library offered no degree of sanctuary for Hermione. In fact it seemed to make the situation worse. She had sought refuge there in the hope that she could avoid all of the pointing and whispers that seemed to follow her wherever she went; however the silence of the room made the whispers even louder. She buried her head in a book and did her best to concentrate, but the acoustics of the room made the words echo off the walls, making it sound like there were hundreds of people gossiping about her and Draco.

Draco… Merlin she didn't want to proceed on that train of thought. One moment he mentioned the two of them going to the Ball together with no sign of disgust or contempt, and the next he was calling her a Mudblood again.

And Harry and Ron said _girls_ were confusing.

In Hermione's opinion, Draco Malfoy was worse; that boy was about as predictable as a Bludger. He couldn't seem to figure out what she was thinking when she shook her head at him, but really, why would he? He didn't _know _her: not in the arrogant way he liked to think he did anyway.

Hermione's gesture hadn't been directed towards Draco as he may have thought. It was merely an external reaction to how stupid she felt in that moment. She honestly thought all the Yule Ball talk that morning would lead to some sort of invitation – he _did _seem to jump at the chance to tell her that he had no date either, and since when does Draco Malfoy inform anyone, least of all Hermione, about his personal life? In addition, they had got on surprisingly well in the library the day before… maybe it was just Hermione's ego thinking that she was finally getting somewhere with the claim she had made last week.

"Harry and Ron said you'd be here," Ginny's voice said from nearby. Hermione placed her book down and looked up to where she heard her friend. Ginny was fidgeting slightly, and a sheepish expression was on her face. Hermione frowned.

"You okay, Gin?" she asked.

"I think I should be the one asking you that, Hermione," Ginny replied, pulling up a chair beside her, "are you getting a lot of stick from this you and Malfoy rumour?"

"You know, funnily enough, not really. Even Draco himself didn't seem that put out by it. Come to think of it, _none _of the Slytherins have actually said anything to me, which is rather odd. Do you suppose it was one of them who started it?" Hermione thought aloud. Some part of her suspected Daphne, because evidently, she and Draco had had some kind of argument, and she wasthere yesterday when Draco had been apparently hitting on her.

"That would make a lot of sense, except I know it wasn't any of the Slytherins who started that rumour," Ginny said.

"How can you possibly know that?" Hermione asked incredulously. Well, as incredulously as she could be considering they were in the library.

"'Cause it was me," Ginny winced.

"WHAT?" Hermione's voice went shrill, "Ginny, why would you do that?" she demanded crossly.

"I know it sounds mad, but I was trying to help you," Ginny said, "just hear me out, and if you're still angry, I'll Bat-Bogey hex _myself. _Now you can't deny that's a sign of true friendship right there."

"Coming from the Bat-Bogey master, I'm a little more convinced that you have good reason," Hermione replied, folding her arms across her chest.

Ginny nodded and proceeded with her explanation, "Okay well I was coming down from the dormitories this morning, but I overheard Harry and Ron talking so I held back, like we did last Friday. And Harry was telling Ron about what happened in here last night."

"Oh Godric, no," Hermione groaned.

"Yes Hermione, I know _everything. _And thanks for filling me in on the gossip last night…" Ginny shot her an annoyed look.

"Hey! Like my brain wasn't frazzled enough after everything that happened."

"That's no excuse," Ginny joked, "anyway, Harry seemed pretty convinced that Malfoy had already asked you to the Ball and so that's why you've been avoiding telling them who your date is. He was telling Ron everything, which I think was pretty stupid on his part. But he convinced Ron not to say anything to you about it until they were certain he was your date. From what I heard, you and Malfoy, strangely, were getting along. Even flirting a little, -"

"We were not flirting!" Hermione said indignantly.

"Sure you weren't," Ginny answered sarcastically, "you were holding hands and you fell for Malfoy's moves. Face it, you think he's hot," she winked.

Hermione blushed, but Ginny spoke before she could defend herself.

"Aha, I thought so," she laughed, "but from those two pieces of information, you two have apparently moved past the animosity-" Hermione begged to differ at that statement; Ginny was unaware of the events of that morning, "and you need a date. So I thought if everyone thought you two were going together then-"

"What? We'd just give in and go together to satisfy a rumour?"

"Yes," Ginny said.

"Ginny Weasley you manipulative minx!" Hermione laughed, "I don't know if that plan was genius or a disaster waiting to happen."

"Well if it turns out to be genius just remember to thank me," Ginny winked, "oh hey Viktor's over there. And he's looking at us. At least you have him as a back up if this Malfoy thing doesn't work out. In any case, can you PLEASE get a wriggle on – I wanted us to go into Hogsmeade on Saturday to get our dresses."

Hermione turned and saw the familiar form of Viktor Krum browsing the shelves as he usually did. He must have sensed her eyes on him, as he looked up a few seconds later. Hermione smiled at him, but he didn't return it. He blinked at her a couple of times and turned his attention back to the books.

"That was odd," Ginny commented, having watched the exchange, "did you two fall-out or something?"

"Not exactly, but the last time we spoke was last night and it was fairly obvious that he was about to ask me to the Ball-"

"Oh my gosh!"

"Don't get too excited, Draco pulled me away from him before I could answer…what?" Hermione asked. Ginny was smirking and wiggling her eyebrows at her.

"Sounds like Malfoy didn't want you to go with Viktor."

"No, it was just him being a baby because obviously he should have been my main priority last night – since I was tutoring him and everything," Hermione dismissed.

"And you believe that?" Ginny asked, "This is Malfoy – or even more simply, a Slytherin we're talking about."

"Exactly! Slytherins will do anything to get their way, and that was Draco's way of getting attention. But for arguments sake, why would he have lied about that?"

"Do you seriously need me to answer that question? Because I think deep down you already know why he would lie, and you already know the real reason he dragged you away. You're either just too confused or scared to believe it," Ginny said bluntly.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully; her friend was really too perceptive for her own good.

* * *

A while after the girls left to get some lunch, Daphne strolled in to the library. She was humming to herself, in a decidedly good mood considering the blatant lie of a rumour that was spreading around the school like Dragonpox. When she heard, she actually believed it for one wild moment. That is, until second lesson when Draco and Hermione arrived, both looking considerably pissed off.

Draco had been in a bad mood all morning. He refused to explain why, though Daphne was under the impression that it was he who started the rumour, and Hermione had found out and flipped her lid about it.

"Excuse me," Daphne's thoughts were interrupted by a deep voice that spoke in a thick accent. She looked up and was surprised to see Viktor Krum looking down at her. She had no idea why he was speaking to her but she was in no way complaining.

"Yes?" she asked.

"You are vriends with Herminny?"

Herminny? Daphne had to think for a while about who he was talking about. Then it occurred to her that it was Granger.

"Not exactly – why?" she replied.

"You vere with her last night in here, so I thought you vere vriends," Viktor frowned and paused for a moment, "are you vriends with Malfoy?" he asked, having noticed the Slytherin symbol on her robes.

Draco? Daphne's interest was piqued. She adjusted her glasses and nodded.

"Do you know if this talk is true? Is he going with Hermay-o-nee to the Ball?" Viktor looked almost worried.

An evil grin spread across Daphne's face. She couldn't help but feel enraged that someone as rich, famous and hot as Viktor Krum wanted to go with plain old Granger to the Ball. However; it was very lucky that she had an admirer who could swoop in and ask her out before Draco. It was luckier still, that this had come to Daphne's attention when Draco and Granger were mad at each other.

"That rumour is complete bullshit," Daphne said bluntly.

"You are sure about this?" Viktor asked.

"Absolutely," she smiled.

"Thank you," he smiled back and bowed slightly before stepping around Daphne and exiting the room. Daphne smirked and went to find a free table so she could do her homework.

Unfortunately for her, Pansy had been browsing for books she needed for their Transfiguration essay and had overheard this entire conversation. The brunette started to panic – she needed to think of a plan, and fast. Suddenly, a genius idea came to her, but she would need to be extremely tactical in executing it – timing would be everything.

Pansy conceded that this was the only chance she had at helping Draco get back any hope of getting Granger to go to the Ball with him. She could have slapped him for his sheer stupidity at letting his ego get the better of him when he wound Granger up that morning. In fact she did slap him… twice…

The Slytherin girl took a deep breath and slipped out of the library. She needed to find Viktor.

* * *

The evening rapidly approached and Draco reluctantly pulled himself up from his chair by the fire in the common room.

"Well to the snake-pit I go," he said wearily, stretching.

"If you're referring to your detention with Granger I think 'lions den' would be a more appropriate metaphor. She's a Gryffindor after all," Daphne cut in.

"It's a bloody figure of speech Greengrass, not an English lesson," Draco snapped at her.

He had been on edge all day and by lunchtime had come to the point where he seriously wanted to kick himself for losing his cool that morning. Hermione hadn't actually said that she believed what Daphne said – he had just got defensive too quickly and presumed. Sure, Granger was being uptight and snooty but it was a rare occasion that she _wasn't_ those things. He was now on edge because he knew he would have to grovel to her so he had a slim chance of redeeming himself, and it didn't help that Daphne had been irritatingly chipper ever since it became evident that he and Granger had fallen out.

Daphne just smirked at him and started leafing through the pages of _Witch Weekly_. Draco clenched his jaw and marched towards the door. As he got there, Pansy caught the sleeve of his robes and held him back.

"What?" Draco sighed.

"Don't take that tone with me, I'm busting my butt trying to make up for your stupidity today." Pansy said in a hissed whisper.

Draco frowned, "What do you mean? And why are you whispering?"

"I don't want Little Miss Traitor over there hearing this," Pansy jerked her head in Daphne's direction, "just let me worry about what I'm doing. All you need to do is make sure Granger goes to the library at eight o'clock tonight."

"How could I possibly make sure she does that? If I just tell her to go she'll suspect something's going on."

"Lie for Salazar's sake, lie! Tell her someone wants to speak to her there, tell her an unabridged version of _Hogwarts: A History _has just come in, anything! I know the exact time is awkward but it's the only way my plan will work," Pansy said.

"I'd love to interrogate you more about this little plan of yours, Parkinson, but I've got that detention to get to. I suppose I'll just have to trust you know what you're doing."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Pansy smiled.

Draco rolled his eyes playfully at her in response and strode through the door. When he arrived at the Charms room, he was unsurprised to see that Hermione was already sitting at a desk in there. She turned up half an hour early, no doubt.

"Ah Mr Malfoy, hello. Why don't you take a seat next to Miss Granger so the two of you can work on whatever you need. I'll be at my desk marking papers so just shout if you need me," Professor Flitwick said cheerily. He waved a hand in Hermione's direction. Her expression was unreadable when she looked up at him, which consoled Draco somewhat as he shuffled his way over to her. At least she wasn't giving him death-glares anymore.

He sat down beside her and both of them had yet to speak to one another. They had exchanged acknowledgements of one another via silent curt nods, but apparently both of them were equally stubborn. Eventually Draco gave in, which, if he didn't have a bet to worry about, he wouldn't have done.

"Hi," he said bluntly.

"Hello," Hermione replied in the same tone.

"Sorry I called you a Mudblood earlier," Draco muttered. He could tell she'd be pissed at him about that more than anything else, "I was just frustrated."

"That was your excuse for the last time you called me that," Hermione countered.

"Well it's true. And if you don't believe me then I think I had good basis for snapping at you this morning," Draco shrugged.

Hermione chewed her lip. He had a point, and she didn't really have the energy to fight with him again, especially not after her conversation with Ginny. She felt like arguing now would just make it more difficult to suss him out once and for all.

"I'm sorry, I know it must have sounded like I was just finding excuses to not trust you, but in my defence I didn't get chance to explain my reasons for asking you that question about what Daphne said. And to be fair, it's still early days so I feel justified in still feeling a little insecure and paranoid about you," she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Draco surprised her by the statement he decided to press her on.

"What were your reasons for asking?" His question was a mixture of curiosity and wanting to call her bluff. Frankly, he didn't believe she would have any other reason for asking other than her nosiness.

Hermione looked at him and readied herself to explain, but Flitwick cleared his throat from across the room and prevented her from doing so.

"There has been plenty of time for conversation during the day, you two. Right now, you should be focused on practicing spells for your exam on Thursday," he squeaked.

"Sorry, sir," Hermione replied. She hastily tried to get her brain into 'work mode', which was difficult because for once, her priorities weren't to do with academia.

"So, _Miss, _what do you think I need to work on?" Draco enquired.

Hermione scoffed, "it amazes me how you can make a term of respect sound so condescending."

"What can I say? It's a gift," Draco smirked. He was revelling in the fact that he could be as snarky as he pleased for the next hour. Hermione wouldn't be able to physically reprimand him now that they were in the presence of a teacher.

She decided to pretend she hadn't heard this comment, "I think it has to be banishing charms again since Daphne didn't exactly allow you to practice that much yesterday. I'll just go and get a cushion from the store cupboard." Hermione rose from her seat and strolled across the room. Draco found himself watching her. Something seemed different.

_Let's see, frizzy hair is still the same, so are the short stature and the hideous, unflattering knee-length skirt. _He cocked his head to the side and examined Hermione objectively until he pinpointed what was different. She wasn't wearing her robes or school jumper – only a three-quarter length sleeved white blouse with her tie. Draco was rather surprised to see that she had quite a slim figure. He certainly wouldn't have thought she'd be thin, but he realised the loosely fitting Hogwarts uniform must have been hiding her figure all this time.

Hermione had now turned around and was heading back his way, cushion in hand, and Draco quickly snapped himself out of it before she could see him staring. _Damn hormones, _he thought.

She returned to the desk and leant over Draco to set the cushion down in front of him. He sniffed the air and noticed something else that was different.

"Granger, are you actually wearing _perfume_?"

Hermione started. Yes she _had _borrowed some from Ginny, but only because she had insisted on it. Hermione had purposefully selected a very subtle fragrance; therefore hadn't expected Draco to actually pick up on it. He must have the nose of a bloodhound.

"Why so surprised? I am a girl, you know," she said dryly.

"Yes but since when have you _acted_ like a girl?" he drawled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well let's face it, you've never been a typical girl. You don't wear make-up, couldn't care less about your appearance, not once have I seen your nose buried in _Witch Weekly, _you've never moaned about breaking a nail after you punched me in third year,your best friends are both boys and from what I've seen, you have never seemed _interested _in boys. Now you're suddenly wearing perfume? Forgive me for being a little surprised."

"Oh," Hermione said quietly. She seemed quite reserved and thoughtful.

"What's up? Did I say something to offend you?" Draco asked a little harshly. He had a feeling she would do what she did best and get on her high horse over nothing.

"It's just, I've never thought about it that way," she sighed, "I mean I'm happy being who I am but it makes me wonder, is that why people think I'm such a freak? It's not because I'm studious at all is it?" Hermione felt tears begin to form in her eyes and she willed herself not to get upset. She knew the more she analysed this, the more convinced she'd be of the truth of it.

Draco had also noticed the change in her attitude. He also willed her not to cry. He couldn't bear hysterical girls; he had zero patience and tolerance to that kind of thing.

"Hermione," he said calmly. He knew using her first name would get her attention and make her look at him. She did just that; her eyes were wide and glassy in anticipation of what he was going to say next.

"Did I say it was a bad thing?" he asked.

"Well no, but-"

"But nothing. I was just listing the ways that you aren't a typical girl. I didn't say anything insulting towards you."

Hermione sniffed. She made to speak but Draco cut her off, "and just to add one more thing to the list, you never get unnecessarily weepy. That point is certainly not a negative against you," he laughed. He wasn't quite sure why he was going out of his way to feed her ego and cheer her up like this, but he felt like he was obliged to do so for some reason.

She laughed weakly and blinked back her tears. "So that's it? No snarky comment about my lack of femininity being the reason why I'm so abhorrent to boys, and why nobody wants to go to the Ball with me?"

"You can tell yourself that all you want, Granger but just remember that I neither said nor thought such things. Don't blame me for this," Draco said bluntly. He would have elaborated by pointing out that Krum wanted to take her to the Ball but that would have been self-sabotage at the end of the day.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Hermione asked.

"Because I feel bad about what happened earlier," Draco answered. He ran a hand through his hair, and opened his mouth to continue but he stopped himself. He felt slightly unnerved by his realisation that he actually admired the girl for being different after so many years of taunting her for that same fact. He wasn't sure what that meant, but until he knew the answer he decided not to tell Hermione.

"What?" she asked. She had seen him about to say something more.

"Nothing, and don't you dare press me on that. I've had enough of your badgering for one day," Draco smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him but smiled secretly to herself as he turned away to retrieve his wand from his robes pocket. Had she and Draco just shared a 'moment'? She didn't know whether to be happy or scared about that. After re-playing her earlier conversation with Ginny in her head, she ended up feeling a mixture of both emotions.

"So, how would you feel if I suggested we try being cordial again?" Draco asked.

"I'd say it's not worth it if we're just going to argue every five minutes."

"Hey you're the one who flipped out and called it off earlier. Remember that," Draco drawled, poking her in the ribs.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and he smirked again in triumph at calling her out on that point, "fine," she said, smiling to herself.

A moment of silence passed as Draco psyched himself up. Hermione seemed to be in a relatively good mood with him, so he decided to finally take the plunge. Merlin knows he could finally relax for a few days once this was over.

"And how would you feel if I suggested we go to the Yule Ball together?" he asked. He held his breath in anticipation of her response and his heart was hammering. He felt about as nervous and on edge as he would have felt asking a girl he really fancied… stupid bet!

The question lingered in the air, and Hermione just stared at Draco in utter disbelief.

"Are you okay? Has someone Confunded you?" she joked. He must be having her on.

"I'm serious, Hermione," he said. Sure enough, there was no smirk or humorous glint in his eyes.

"I don't understand," she thought aloud, "this is me you're talking to."

"I'm not blind," he scoffed, "but just hear me out. Neither of us have a date yet, and-"

"Well I _would _have a date if you didn't drag me away from Viktor yesterday," Hermione muttered.

"And how was I supposed to know what you were talking about?" Draco challenged. He wondered if she would have the gall to accuse him of eavesdropping. To his surprise, she didn't.

Hermione just shrugged. She didn't dare question him after the way he flipped out that morning.

Draco nodded in comprehension, "as I was saying," he shot her an annoyed glance, "there's this rumour going around, and before you jump to conclusions, I have no idea who started it. Let's face it, nobody would believe us if we denied such juicy gossip so we may as well do what everyone already thinks we're doing."

Hermione couldn't believe her ears: Ginny's plan was actually working.

"What would your friends have to say about that?" she asked.

"They don't own me. Besides since when do you care what people think?"

"I don't care, but I just wonder how much stick you'll get from them for lowering yourself to going on a date with a Muggleborn."

"I'm a big boy – I can take care of myself," Draco drawled, smiling at her, "this is purely for convenience."

Convenience. When he put it like that, it seemed a little more plausible for him to be asking. Hermione couldn't help wondering if there was more to it than that.

"Look Draco, sorry to bring this up again, but I need to know the answer to the question I asked you this morning. How many girls have you used that move on?"

Draco sighed impatiently, "Why does it matter?"

"Well put it this way, if you don't answer, I wont feel comfortable agreeing to go to the Ball with you," Hermione said. She couldn't help feeling slightly worried that he would still refuse to answer. Some wild part of her wanted to go to the Ball with him. She had to admit that Draco was attractive, and he may be an arse at times but he _was_ good company when he chose to be.

The only issue was that they'd never been together in public, so it would be a bit of a gamble to go with him. Merlin knows what his friends thought to all of this, let alone what Harry and Ron would think.

He scowled at being manipulated in such a way, "Nobody. That's the truth," he said, "Greengrass was lying."

Hermione processed his answer and felt inclined to believe him. After all, her instinct had been that Daphne was lying. There was still some hint of doubt there though; something that was telling her that Draco's proposal wasn't entirely genuine. She just didn't know if it was her paranoia or if there was something going on. Hermione decided she needed a second opinion.

"Fair enough, but would you mind if I think about it for a while?"

Draco's heart skipped a beat. Merlin why was she so awkward? He swallowed hard and tried to think of a way to protest, but then he remembered that Pansy was planning something. He never thought he'd be in a position where he had to rely on her to help, but it looked like he had no other choice. Draco knew that allowing Hermione to think about it would just give Viktor another opportunity to ask her out as well.

"That's fine," he lied, "but I should have you know that Malfoy's don't like to be kept waiting for long."

"You're a spoiled bunch aren't you?" Hermione joked.

"What was your first clue?" Draco raised an eyebrow and smiled at her.

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"It was a rhetorical question."

"Of course it was," Hermione said sarcastically, "we should probably start practicing stuff now," she added, as Flitwick cleared his throat from across the room.

"I suppose," Draco's tone was void of enthusiasm, "but before we do, I just remembered I need to tell you something. Your presence is required in the library at eight o'clock."

"Why?" Hermione frowned.

"Er-" Draco paused. He didn't want to lie and risk Hermione catching him out, but he somehow put two and two together and he suspected that Pansy's plan had something to do with Krum; she knew about the close call of the night before, "Krum said he wanted to speak to you."

He knew that was a risky thing to say, and he hoped his choice of words wouldn't come back around and bite him in the arse.

_To be continued..._

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**A/N: **As ever, thank you very much for reading. I'm assuming most of you are Dramione shippers if you're reading this, but if you are it'd be awesome if you could check out my new collection of Dramione Drabbles. I'd love some more feedback on there to help improve my writing and whatnot.

Hope you're enjoying this story so far :)


	10. 17th December (Part 3)

**A/N:** As ever, thank you all so much for reading and supporting this story.

Apologies in advance for the lack of originality with Pansy. At first I started trying to think of over-complex schemes but got nowhere with it really. In a way the obvious route worked well for the situation of her character; she isn't the brightest witch there is at the best of times, and with the panic and unknown time constraints, she was bound to go for something simple and foolproof.

Enjoy :)

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**The Library **

**8 days until the Yule Ball - Part 3**

The remainder of the hour dragged on painfully slowly, for Draco at least. He hated it when he wasn't in control of a situation, so having to trust Pansy knew what she was doing and could pull off whatever it was she had planned was stretching Draco's strength of character and faith to the limit. He regretted not taking the opportunity to ask what her plan was, because then he would know for certain if it involved Viktor or not.

His unease meant that today, he didn't have to pretend to do the spells wrong. He wasn't focused at all, and Hermione's attempt to help by holding his wrist and guiding him through the correct movements certainly wasn't improving the situation. Draco didn't know if it was his imagination, but there seemed to be a weird connection between them when their hands touched. He told himself that he just wasn't used to having physical interaction with Hermione that didn't end with him being in pain, but Draco knew deep down that he was bullshitting himself – if that was even possible.

Every time Hermione had to guide him in such a manner, she always acted all shy and awkward afterwards, like she was embarrassed. Draco had caught her blushing on one occasion, and he couldn't help but wonder if she felt something too. He would have questioned her about this if he didn't know how stubborn she was. She would be in denial too, though Draco was unable to pinpoint just _what _he was in denial about. Whatever it was, he knew he didn't like it.

Eventually the hour came to an end and Draco couldn't get away fast enough. He made a point of reminding Hermione to go to the library and sauntered off when her back was turned. He wanted to avoid any awkward goodbyes, so running away seemed the best option.

Hermione gathered her belongings and shook her head when she realised that Draco had slunk away without announcing his departure, let alone thanking her for helping him again. She was surprised to not be feeling annoyed about his actions like she usually was. Then again, she had been out of sorts since Draco had asked her to the Ball so she didn't read too much into it.

She arrived at the library in no time, and couldn't help but wonder if Viktor was planning on asking her to the Ball. If he did, Hermione would feel inclined to go with him and not Draco. Viktor had the reputation whereas Draco apparently didn't; however the Durmstrang student seemed a safe option. Draco was giving her a headache with his unpredictable moods and actions, and she had to take into account how Harry and Ron would react.

Overall, Viktor seemed to be the wise choice.

With that in mind, Hermione felt assured and confident as she sought him out around the shelves of the library. Eventually her eyes fell on his tall, broad figure, at the end of an aisle that separated two bookshelves and she headed towards him. He had his back to her so she reached out to tap his shoulder, but she soon stopped herself.

It was fairly gloomy in the library even on the brightest of summer days. It was now pitch black outside, so the lighting was restricted inside the room. This was why Hermione didn't notice it straight away – 'it' being the pair of arms that were draped around Viktor's neck. The arms obviously belonged to a Hogwarts student, because this was the only school that had black robes as part of the uniform, and the material of the robes blended almost seamlessly into the fabric of Viktor's woollen sweater, which was also black.

As Hermione's eyes adjusted to the light, she could see that Viktor's head was bowed slightly, and that one of his hands was holding the waist of the other person, whose face was obscured by Viktor's body. Hermione may not be an expert in such departments, but she could tell that Viktor was having a rather heated snogging session with someone in the school library. It was almost sacrilege!

Hermione instantly felt her stomach twist in knots. She felt a mixture of things: hurt, anger, and maybe a little jealousy, though she realised that she didn't really have any right to feel those things. Viktor never had actually asked her to the Ball, but just the principle of the fact that he had been about to ask her and couldn't wait a day to ask her properly seemed shallow and narcissistic, and made Hermione feel vastly less special than she had done the previous night. She had been stunned that such a popular and handsome boy could be interested in her, but now she felt small and unimportant… maybe it was a good thing that she had never been interested in boys, at least, where her self-esteem was concerned.

The article from _Seeker &amp; Snitch _telling of Viktor's reputation was apparently accurate, though Hermione didn't really believe it after last night when the Bulgarian seemed so sweet and shy. But now, proof was staring her in the face. He may not be technically cheating on her, but Hermione felt some degree of betrayal because of how he had requested to see her here (presumably to ask her out) and had apparently forgotten about her now that someone better had come along. It did cross Hermione's mind that Viktor's ego had been dented by last night and the rumour, but that still didn't make it right in her opinion.

_Well if Viktor wanted to see me, I suppose I should make my presence known, _Hermione thought. She straightened her back and lifted her chin. She cleared her throat purposefully, almost like a mother would to a child who had just been caught taking a cookie from the jar before dinner.

The pair tensed and the mystery girl jumped back. She sighed in annoyance as Viktor started to turn. A clawed hand dug possessively into his shoulder, stopping his movements and a familiar voice spoke.

"Who's there?" the snappy, unfriendly tone addressed Hermione.

"Parkinson?!" she spluttered in disbelief.

Pansy smirked unpleasantly, unable to hide her glee and relief that her plan was succeeding. Hermione didn't notice this though, because Viktor had spun around to face her as he recognised her voice. He frowned, but didn't seem too embarrassed or ashamed at being caught.

"Hermione, vhat are you doing here?"

The Gryffindor ignored the fact that he had, at last, pronounced her name correctly.

"What do you mean? _You _asked to see me, though I cant imagine what for as you seemed rather pre-occupied there," she said haughtily.

Before Viktor could deny this, Pansy spoke up, "Why so ruffled, Granger? It's not my fault that you were too stupid to agree to go to the Ball with Viktor."

"He never asked me,' Hermione replied.

"Oh, so you're just jealous that he wants me instead of a plain, ugly Mudblood like you," the girl cackled. Pansy had half a mind to rub salt in the wound and inform Hermione of how good a kisser Viktor was, in regards to the deal she had made with Weaslette, but that would let on that she knew about it, so Pansy held her tongue on this jibe.

She thought of a better way to turn the screw, "Besides I thought you and Draco were going to the Ball together."

"Yes, Pansy says this is true thing," Viktor said slowly, "the blonde witch who vas studying with you yesterday told me it vas just a rumour, but Pansy then told me the girl vas lying because she has crush on Malfoy and did not accept that he vould go to the Ball with you," he seemed considerably impressed with himself at remembering all of these details, and smiled proudly.

Part of Hermione felt relieved that she now wasn't going to consider Viktor as an option for the Ball any longer; Draco's comment about the Bulgarian's amount of brain cells didn't seem like such a gross exaggeration now. She had always been a firm believer that everything happened for a reason, so she took this situation as a sign that she and Viktor just weren't meant to be together – even if it was just for a school dance. The Durmstrang Champion may have been under the impression that the rumour was true, but that didn't change the fact that they just weren't a compatible match.

Hermione was just about to retort when she heard the nearby scraping of a chair and loud footsteps approaching. For a second she thought the person to be Madam Pince, but it turned out to be Daphne Greengrass. The blonde girl rounded the corner and headed towards them.

Pansy groaned, "Ugh, go away Greengrass! You're about as meddlesome as Granger here."

"Hey!" Hermione and Daphne said simultaneously to the dark-haired witch.

"I'm sorry, _Parkinson," _Daphne hissed, "forgive me for coming over to refute that bullshit Viktor just spouted."

"Vhat vas wrong with vhat I said?" Viktor looked thoroughly confused. Hermione began to wonder if all this time his mysterious-brooding-bad boy image had just been mistaken for his expression for confusion.

"I do not, never have done and never will have a crush on Malfoy. If anything that whole being jealous crap would be about you, Parkinson. And for the record, it's funny you mention meddling because from my view you're the most sneaky underhanded one of all," Daphne glared at her housemate. Both Slytherins knew she was referring to Pansy's ploy to boost Draco's chances of winning the bet by manipulating Viktor.

Hermione could see the knowing look the girls exchanged, and it was her turn to become confused, _so now Pansy's had a blow-up with Daphne as well as Draco? The plot thickens…_

"Oh how you flatter me, Greengrass," Pansy said in a nasal drawl, "but it's a free country – no-one said I _couldn't_ be underhanded and sneaky."

If Daphne had the option to make it blindingly obvious to Hermione that a bet was going on, she would take it, but it was just too risky. Binding spells were tricky things, so although she and Draco had never specified a rule where they couldn't tell Granger or Potter about the bet, there was bound to be some kind of clause in the spell that would enable the punishment. It was basically a forfeit if she spilled the beans, so Daphne decided not to risk it.

"Maybe so, but you and I both know that the rumour is a lie," Daphne addressed Pansy. This too, was a risky thing to say because Hermione was witnessing this whole conversation – only she would know the truth (or untruth) of the rumour.

Fairly certain that her plan had worked, Pansy boldly replied, "Hmm I don't know, but there's one person here who does," she turned her gaze to Hermione. The Gryffindor started, not really wanting to get involved with the confrontation.

"What's the rumour got to do with anything?" Something in Hermione's gut told her right off the bat last Thursday that something fishy was going on with the Slytherins, and she couldn't help but link this bizarre Viktor situation with whatever had happened with the Snakes. It had been bothering her that Viktor clearly believed the rumour, but still wanted to speak to her about something, and even now he didn't seem to remember making this request.

"It's our business Granger, no need to go into detail," Pansy sighed.

"What's this bloody rumour got to do with your problems?" Hermione reiterated. The only reason she could think of was that Daphne actually did have feelings for Draco – that would explain the tension she had with him and Pansy and would make the rumour a relevant topic. But that still didn't clear up the Viktor thing.

Both Pansy and Daphne froze; this was dangerous ground they were treading.

"Look Granger, you're all gung-ho for justice and fair outcomes and all that nobility crap, right?" Pansy asked.

Hermione didn't answer so Pansy continued, "this is your chance to settle this bit of tension between Daphne and I. You're like the star of the rumour, so tell us if you're going to the Ball with Draco or not."

"Er," Hermione said. This was awkward; she didn't even know how to respond. Now that Viktor was out of the picture, Draco seemed like her only option. But how could she say she was going with him when she hadn't even agreed to it yet? It'd be just as weird to deny it now, only to end up going with him anyway.

Another theory crossed her mind and she mused it aloud, using it as a way to avoid answering the question, "are you two just jealous because of this rumour that I'm going with Draco and you two don't even have dates yet?" It seemed to make sense, all things considered, even regarding Viktor. It was logical that Pansy set the whole thing up to prove that she could get a date if Mudblood-Granger could.

Daphne cleared her throat and fiddled with the earpieces of her glasses, "dream on Granger, I already have a date," she declared.

Pansy snorted and narrowed her eyes, "Who?" she challenged.

"Potter," the blonde girl smirked knowingly toward Pansy, relishing her dumbfounded reaction. Daphne had been caught off guard when Harry had asked her, and initially thought it to be a cruel twist of fate of the universe mocking her about her penalty for the bet. However she soon embraced the idea when she realised the beauty of it. It would show Pansy that her taunts about Harry weren't affecting her, and perhaps make her back off a little. It was a matter of convenience for Daphne, nothing more.

Both Pansy and Hermione were taken aback by Daphne's response. Pansy had no idea if the girl was bluffing or not, whilst Hermione was simply having trouble processing the idea of Harry and Daphne as a couple. Then again, she supposed the idea of her going to the Ball with Draco would seem just as mad to Harry. Just the idea of two well-known enemies going to a dance was strange, but Hermione had more insight to it now as she and Draco now knew each other slightly better. It didn't seem quite as mad to her anymore, so she felt like she could accept Daphne and Harry. She just worried that Harry wouldn't be quite as understanding about Draco.

"You're bluffing," Pansy glowered at Daphne. The sudden declaration drew Hermione's attention from her thoughts.

"No she isn't," Harry's voice came from the other side of a tall shelf of books. He rounded the same corner Daphne had done and shuffled awkwardly towards the group. He glanced up to Hermione and nodded slightly in acknowledgement, but otherwise kept his gaze on the floor.

"Hello Harry," Viktor gave a little bow. He seemed oblivious to the rising tension around the girls.

"Viktor." Harry responded.

"Well isn't this cosy," Pansy commented dryly. There were now five of them huddled within the cramped aisle, and you could cut the tension with a knife. It was like a Muggle soap opera where everyone had some sort of hidden agenda that no one else knew about.

"Still think I'm bluffing, Parkinson?" Daphne smirked.

Pansy wanted to scream in annoyance, and would have done if they weren't in the library. After all her hard work to ensure Daphne would be humiliated by having to kiss Potter, she was now going to the Ball with him?! Pansy didn't know if Daphne was seriously into him or if she was doing this to mess with her, but whatever the case, Pansy refused to back down. She'd find out what Daphne's game was as soon as the Yule Ball was over, and the winner of the bet was decided.

"Well played, Greengrass. But we'll soon see if you're bluffing or not won't we?" she said cryptically, barging her way through the small group, "Viktor," she beckoned when she reached the end of the aisle.

Viktor blinked a couple of times but followed Pansy without question, and the two of them disappeared from sight. Both Harry and Hermione had no idea what on earth Pansy's words meant, but Daphne did, and she scowled at the floor. She hadn't thought as far ahead as the outcome of the bet, but she hoped Pansy would leave her alone until then.

Daphne sighed and turned to Harry, "sorry about that, Pansy's just really been winding me up lately. Do you want to finish up on that last spell or shall we call it a night?"

Harry momentarily glanced at Hermione and saw the curiosity on her face. Her eyebrows were raised and she was smirking in amusement. Harry could tell she was bursting to know what had gone on with Daphne, so he told the blonde that they could work on it another night. She simply nodded and strode away to gather her belongings. A moment later the Gryffindors saw her walk past the aisle once more as she headed for the exit, leaving Harry and Hermione alone.

Silence surrounded them and eventually Hermione suggested that they start heading up to the common room. The two friends left the library and started the journey up to Gryffindor Tower, both of them lost in their thoughts.

"So…you and Daphne," Hermione broke the silence as they emerged from the third floor corridor and started ascending the Grand Staircase.

"Yeah, looks like you're not the only one who's going to the Ball with a Snake," Harry commented without emotion.

Hermione chewed her lip, once again not knowing how to respond. Harry seemed to take her silence as a sign that he had offended her by the way his words had come across, being unaware that Hermione already knew about the talk he had had with Ron that morning.

"Look Mione, I'm not happy about this you and Malfoy thing. I don't know for sure if this rumour is actually true or not, but I'm presuming it is."

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm not deaf or blind Hermione, I saw what was going on last night. Frankly I have no idea how you and Malfoy went from hating each other to whatever the hell that was in such a short time."

Hermione blushed at the memory, "you must think I'm crazy."

"No. I mean, I just asked Daphne Greengrass to the Ball. I'm just as crazy as you," Harry grinned, "but it did worry me a little how Malfoy was suddenly being nice to you. I don't trust him."

"I don't know, Harry, he does seem to be taking this truce thing seriously though. And if you think about it, it was all his idea and he apologised to me last week. I just kind of think he might have grown up a bit," Hermione shrugged.

"I thought the same thing but then you two were giving each other death glares in Charms this morning."

"Come on, Harry. It's me and Malfoy; even with a truce we just aren't automatically going to stop fighting. Besides we've settled that disagreement now."

"I suppose so, but-"

"Harry, I know you're looking out for me, and I'm trying to look out for you with Daphne. Both of us are kind of in the same boat here, so I can see why you might have seen a different side to Daphne. She has been rather civil to you over this last week I have to admit, so can you understand that it's the same situation for Draco and I?" Hermione asked. She found it massively comforting that she and Harry were going through the same thing; it made her feel more accepting about what was going on with Draco.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione's proposal had pretty much mirrored what he had discussed with Ron. He was glad that he and Hermione could confide into each other about the Slytherins because they were really the only two people who were experiencing what Harry could only describe as a hormone-induced crush, and a bloody ironic one at that.

"Yeah I can, weirdly enough," he laughed.

"Oh Harry, I'm so glad," Hermione stopped walking momentarily to give her best friend a hug. Her main worry about going to the Ball with Draco had been Harry and Ron's reactions, but now she knew that Harry, at least, wouldn't give her a hard time about it.

"Mione?"

"Yeah?" Hermione's voice was muffled as her face was buried in Harry's shoulder.

"Just promise me that the first time Malfoy steps out of line – like _properly _steps out of line, you'll hex him into the middle of next week. Or better yet, give him one of your right-hooks again."

Hermione pulled away from him, "Frankly Harry I'm a little insulted that you imply I wouldn't do those things anyway. I thought you knew me better than that," she joked.

"I do know you better than that. That's why I made you promise," Harry replied seriously.

"Okay it's happened: you've officially lost me," Hermione frowned in confusion as the pair started walking again.

"Really? Allow me a few seconds to cherish this moment," Harry paused and walked up the next few stairs with a smug grin on his face. Hermione rolled her eyes beside him and waited for her friend to continue, "okay, so I made you promise, Hermione, because I know how you always try to see the good in people. The deeper you get into seeing this 'new side' to someone, the more you get mixed up with who they actually are and who you want them to be. You're dealing with Malfoy now, so I just don't want you to let your guard down and get hurt. That git's hurt you enough."

They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, and Hermione smiled at her friend.

"Okay I stand corrected, you _do _know me well. I'll keep that promise if you make the same one to me about Daphne."

"She's never really been much of a nuisance to us," Harry frowned.

"I know Harry but please, for my peace of mind?"

"All right, I promise," said Harry.

Hermione nodded and the two friends entered the Gryffindor common room. A small crowd was gathered around one of the squashy sofas. Harry and Hermione inched closer until they could see what, or rather whom, everyone was fussing over.

"Ron?" Hermione gasped, "What happened?"

Ron looked deathly pale, bar his ears, which were bright scarlet. He was clutching a cushion and rocking back and forth in his seat. Hermione was confused as to why most of the onlookers seemed to be laughing or in Ginny's case, rolling her eyes.

"My genius of a brother decided it'd be a good idea to ask Fleur Delacour to the Yule Ball," she supplied. A ripple of laughter sounded around the crowd and Ron groaned.

"Oh bloody hell what was I thinking?" he muttered quietly to no one in particular.

"Well mate, I don't know whether to think that move was bloody brave or just plain stupid," Harry said lightly.

He pushed through the crowd to sit next to Ron. The redhead turned to Harry and almost whimpered, "it's the way they walk Harry, that's how they get you…like Veela those Beauxbatons lot are. They just prance around in that tight uniform so your eyes just go straight to their ar-"

"RONALD!" Hermione scolded, and laughter rang out again.

Ron ignored her and carried on talking to Harry, "oh Merlin it was awful. Please tell me you still haven't got a date either."

"Wish I could, mate," Harry sighed.

Ron groaned again and his eyes darted between his two best friends, "Oh great so I'm the only one who still hasn't. Who are you two going with?"

Harry and Hermione locked eyes, and seemed to come to a silent agreement that they should tell him. Hermione felt like she couldn't beat around the bush any longer even though she hadn't officially said 'yes' yet. But Harry, and the rest of the school seemed to believe it anyway so-

"Draco," Hermione said hurriedly in the hope that it would soften the blow a little.

"Daphne," Harry said at the same time.

The crowd went silent and Ron seemed to get paler still.

"Come again?" he asked.

* * *

After spending half an hour in the boy's dormitories trying to explain themselves to Ron without sounding like they'd lost their minds, Harry and Hermione managed to calm their friend down and he began to accept their decisions a little. They didn't celebrate though, because Ron had had a rather traumatic day, and so would possibly wake the next morning with a fresh opinion on the situation.

Hermione left the room and made her way to the girls dormitories, but was stopped by Ginny.

"So, going to thank me yet?" she winked, "I take it my plan worked?"

Hermione laughed, "yes it did, and thank you," she said, "at least I can stop worrying about this date business now and just relax until the Ball."

"Hmm, maybe you just need to worry about which lipstick to use," Ginny smirked.

"What?"

"I can't believe you've forgotten! You still have your end of our little deal to uphold. I never thought this far ahead when I spread that rumour, but it's pretty genius that you're going to kiss Malfoy to prove your point to Parkinson."

"Come again?" Hermione asked. A few moments ago she was feeling the most relaxed she had felt in days, and now her stomach was twisting in knots.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**A/N: **I know some of you probably thought this would go right up until the day before the Ball before Hermione said yes, but I thought that was too cliche so I'm mixing things up a bit. The chapter after next will be the Hogsmeade trip so there'll be a nice breather from the stress from the bet coming up :)

Hope you're enjoying this so far!


	11. 20th December

**A/N: **There's a couple of flashbacks in here, so I just want to point out that the present day as of this chapter is a Friday.

Thank you to all of my new followers and reviewers, and an extra thanks to those of you who have been reviewing multiple times (you know who you awesome people are!)

* * *

**Last Day of Term **

**5 days until the Yule Ball**

Well it was official: Hermione was going to the Yule Ball with Draco.

It had been _official_-official (that is, _both _parties knew of the arrangement) since Wednesday morning, two days ago and the news was still the hottest school gossip; even talk of the Triwizard Tournament seemed to be put on the backburner when it came to conversation topic. It had also become fairly blatant that Pansy was going to the Ball with Viktor Krum, and yet every tidbit of chatter Hermione would overhear on her way to and from classes revolved around Draco and herself.

Ron, as Hermione assumed, had woken the morning after he first heard the news feeling considerably put out that his two best friends were going to the Ball with Slytherins. The night before, Harry tried to calm him by reiterating what Hermione guessed was the conversation Ginny had overheard. At the time, Ron had accepted it, but he slumped into first lesson on Wednesday moping and brooding. Unbeknownst to his two friends, Ron was actually in deep thought about the situation, not really buying the hormone crap any longer because it was a little too convenient that Harry and Hermione's apparent crushes seemed to be reciprocated.

Ron's distracted thoughts meant that he hadn't been very talkative, and both Harry and Hermione had mistaken his attitude as him giving them the silent treatment. Hermione never liked it when there was tension between the three of them, but she was glad that Ron decided to take this approach instead of the alternative reaction, where he'd make a scene by shouting like the stubborn prat he could be at times.

She was glad because it meant that Ron hadn't been able to inadvertently signal to Draco that she had confirmed she was going to the Ball with him before he even knew about her decision. That would have been considerably awkward for everyone so Hermione had hoped Ron would keep his demeanour up until she had chance to talk to Draco.

Surprisingly she didn't have to wait long, nor did she have to talk to him for that matter. Draco had decided to take matters into his own hands, mainly because Daphne's gloating about going to the Ball with Potter had seriously rattled him, and he couldn't bear the suspense any longer. He scrawled a note onto a scrap of parchment and charmed it to fly across the room to Hermione.

The parchment had elegantly landed on Hermione's desk, and she could only be thankful that she and Draco were seated towards the back of the Transfiguration room. Merlin knows the last thing she needed that day was for McGonagall to catch the two of them passing notes and proceed to read the messages aloud to the class, as she had been known to do in the past.

Hermione had somehow instantly known whom the note was from. She had seen Harry and Ron trying to not so subtly read it out of the corner of their eyes, so she had glared at them and turned away to read the message.

It simply read, "_Well?" _

It was funny how a single written word could sound so superior and arrogant. If she hadn't known the sender was Draco, that would have been the moment she realised. Hermione could practically hear the word being drawled by him and see the smirk on his face that would undoubtedly accompany it if they were having a vocal conversation and not a written one.

It was now Friday afternoon and Hermione still clearly remembered the event, and how she had locked eyes with Draco a moment later. She had rolled her eyes at him as if to say _'really Malfoy? This couldn't wait another twenty minutes when the lesson ends?' _As predicted, he had smirked his response.

Hermione had flipped the parchment over, scribbled a note in return, and sent it back to the blond. She certainly wasn't going to let him win and give in to his spoiled demands.

"_Maybe." _she had replied. She knew she'd have to agree sooner rather than later, but the temptation to wind him up was just too much on that occasion.

Having received the message, Draco growled under his breath. Daphne, Pansy and Blaise all simultaneously leaned over to peer at what Hermione had written. Daphne snorted in amusement, whilst Pansy and Blaise sucked air through their teeth.

Draco wrote back immediately, almost breaking the nib of his quill in the process with the vast amount of panic and anger-induced pressure he had been putting onto it. Part of him knew that Granger was messing with him. She had to be.

"_I did tell you that Malfoys don't like to be kept waiting." _

"_I know. That's why I AM keeping you waiting."_

"_Quit messing with me -" the word 'bitch' followed, but was scribbled out, "- Granger."__  
_

"_I don't think I will, I'm rather enjoying this. (__Ferrety git)__."_

"_Wait until my Father hears about this, then you'll be sorry."_

Hermione knew that it was time to stop when she had read this message. That sentence meant that Draco's already limited patience was wearing thin, so she knew the jig was up. In a way, she had been then, and still was, intrigued that Draco still hadn't taken back his invitation.

Hermione thought carefully about how she should respond, and tapped the feather-end of her quill against her chin.

She had sensed someone watching her, and she blushed furiously when she saw Ron's expression. He and Harry had obviously witnessed the entire note-passing scene, and both boys were looking at her with raised eyebrows. They looked completely dumbfounded.

Hermione could only smile sheepishly at them, as she couldn't explain herself. To them it probably looked like she and Draco had been exchanging mushy love notes for the last five minutes, when the truth was very different.

"Still think its hormones?" Ron muttered to Harry as their friend sent away the parchment once more.

Hermione didn't hear this though, because she kept her attention half on her work and half on Draco to see his reaction.

The parchment floated in front of the Slytherin and he took a deep breath in anticipation of what he was about to read. He could practically hear his friends do the same thing, and he rolled his eyes at how nosy they all were.

"_Run to daddy if you want but I don't think he'd be too thrilled to find out that you're going to the Yule Ball with a muggleborn." _

The words hadn't sunk in yet but they had in Pansy's head. She whispered, "Yes!" under her breath and squeezed Draco's leg under the table. He flinched away at the contact and glared at Pansy. That woman really needed to learn some boundaries.

But Pansy's clinginess was soon pushed to the back of his mind. Blaise clapped him on the back, and Pansy was now looking at Daphne and smirking. Draco read the words over and over and over, just to make sure Hermione meant what he hoped she did.

Draco twisted in his seat and was surprised to see that Hermione was already looking at him. He mouthed, 'really?' to her, just to make sure he hadn't misunderstood anything. The girl smiled at him and nodded, and Draco's own lips tilted upwards too. He had done it. Hermione had willingly agreed to go to the Ball with him.

_That'd teach Greengrass from doubting me and my pulling abilities in the future, _he thought smugly. Draco was so caught up in the moment that he gave Daphne a rude hand gesture in triumph.

So that was how Hermione and Draco officially became intended dates for the Ball, and in turn, was the moment the gossiping started up. In a way, Hermione didn't understand how the news was received with shock and awe from everyone; didn't they all believe they were going together anyway?

Hermione stated that morning that the situation was 'driving her hairless', and at the time had felt it as an accurate description of her feelings. That is, until Draco decided to point out the irony of her words. Suffice it to say, she had smacked him, and he had been sulking ever since.

That boy could certainly be dramatic and pathetic when he chose to be; he just thrived off attention. His whole persona seemed to have been built on it, and Hermione honestly didn't know how he could live like that. She hated the constant feeling that she was being watched, which seemed to sum up how impossible the situation would seem to other students. She and Draco were from two completely different worlds, but here she was in the common room, planning the upcoming Hogsmeade trip with Ginny down to the last second. A trip where she would be buying the dress, shoes, jewellery and everything else she needed for her outfit for the Yule Ball, to which she had willingly agreed to go with her long-sworn enemy.

As Ginny began to drone on about necklines, dress materials and lengths, Hermione's mind started to wander, and she followed the same train of thought she had done ever since Tuesday night. _Dresses. I'm going to wear one to the Ball. I'm going to kiss Draco Malfoy whilst wearing the dress at the Ball… no Hermione; it's not going to help if you keep worrying about it! Think about something else. Okay, books, in the library, where Draco and I held hands and where I almost got a date with Viktor to the Ball. I'm going to kiss Draco Malfoy at the Ball… Dammit!_

"Mione?"

"Hm?" Hermione said absently to Ginny, who raised her eyebrows.

"You're thinking about it again, aren't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe because you're biting down on your lip so hard you're close to drawing blood," Ginny laughed as she watched Hermione slowly release her bottom lip from between her teeth.

She smiled sheepishly, "okay, you got me."

"If you're that bothered you don't have to go through with it, you know. It's not like we made that deal official or implemented binding spells like some idiots do. I just thought it'd be a good way for you to get one up on Parkinson, that's all."

Hermione shook her head stubbornly, "no Gin, we've been through this. I said I'd do it so I'm following it through, for my own benefit. I'm sick of Parkinson's taunting, especially after I caught her and Viktor kissing the other day, and really this is a glowing opportunity to make her shut up. I just feel like if I back out now, I'm just proving her right."

"But she doesn't even know about this," Ginny responded in an attempt to calm her friend's nerves.

"True. But I feel like doing this will do be good for me. I've never retaliated to her before so she probably thinks I'm an easy target, and I'd like to prove her wrong. I'm just nervous because-"

"Because it's Malfoy?" Ginny mused.

"Because Malfoy would be my first kiss. Kissing him isn't the issue funnily enough. It's just the fact that he'd be my first," Hermione elaborated.

The redhead frowned and scooched closer to Hermione on the sofa in the hope that this would make their conversation a little more private. The older girl understood and appreciated the gesture, as she always felt a little awkward with this subject.

Ginny tucked her hair behind her ear and said, "I didn't think you were the mushy, sentimental type, Mione, getting worked up about who your first kiss will be with and all that."

Hermione screwed up her face, "I suppose I feel a little weird about that, just because it's the kind of thing that will be with your forever. Second, third and fourth kisses will fade in memory but it's the first one that you'll always remember."

"Don't worry about that, I'm sure there's some kind of selective memory-erasing charm," Ginny smiled, "and if there isn't one, I'll invent it just for the sole purpose of erasing the memory of kissing Malfoy if it turns out to be mentally scarring and awful for you," the girl was a little concerned when Hermione didn't laugh at her comment. Instead, she smiled weakly and gazed into the fire.

"That's what I'm worried about," she said.

"What do you mean? I've heard Parkinson bragging about how good Malfoy is at kissing – I doubt it will be that bad. That is, assuming she wasn't lying," Ginny smiled.

Hermione scrunched her face up again as she tried to work out how to explain, "I know the kiss won't be awful, and that's what makes it awful for me!"

"Eh?" Ginny frowned.

"He's undoubtedly had previous kissing experience whilst I haven't. Last time we discussed this, you said that Viktor didn't seem like the type who'd hold it against me because I've never kissed anyone before and so probably wouldn't be that good at it."

"So?"

"So, does Malfoy strike you as the type of person who _wouldn't_ hold it against me?"

Understanding came crashing down on Ginny as she realised what Hermione meant, "oh right. I see what you mean."

"Exactly. Draco is spoiled and never fails to moan or sulk when things aren't suited to his liking. I'm just worried that doing this to annoy Parkinson will just be thrown back in my face if he decides to make a laughing stock of me out of it."

"Hermione-"

"Don't Gin, it's my own fault for getting so caught up in finding a date in the first place that I didn't think this far ahead."

"Hermione, listen," Ginny said firmly, "he's not going to do that."

"Pfft. This is Draco Malfoy – why wouldn't he do that?" Hermione scoffed in disbelief.

"Because this is Draco Malfoy: the spoiled, pretentious, self-righteous boy who hexed you a couple of weeks ago and has insulted you ever since your first year-"

"I hope you're going somewhere with this," Hermione glared at Ginny.

"I am Mione, keep your hair on! My point is, he's still all those things, and yet he asked you to the Yule Ball. Even the way he prompted you to give him an answer proves he's the same annoying git, and yet he's been civil to you countless times over this last week."

Hermione nodded, "and that makes you confident that he's not going to make a fool of me about my lack of kissing experience, how?"

"Merlin, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one," Ginny teased, gently nudging Hermione's arm with her own, "but I get that you're really anxious about this. It just seems like Malfoy cares about you in his own strange way, or at least he respects and accepts you as a person now. He wouldn't humiliate you like that."

"Did you really just use the words 'Malfoy', 'cares' and 'respect' in the same sentence?" Hermione joked. She felt in denial about what her friend was saying, and yet her heart fluttered when she heard the words.

"Think about it. He has initiated almost everything that has happened between the two of you. There was the apology, and then he asked you for tuition. After that he suggested a truce-"

"But then we got into a fight," Hermione countered. She didn't really understand why she was protesting so much.

"Hm, and who was the first to apologise?"

"_He_ was," Hermione sighed.

"There you go," Ginny smirked triumphantly, "are you okay now?"

"I don't know Gin. I feel better about the kiss thing now but… it's just…I still feel…um…do you think he…" Hermione's voice trailed off and she was left gesturing wildly with her hands trying to tell Ginny what was bothering her but the words just wouldn't come. She soon became flustered and let out an exasperated squeal through gritted teeth. Hermione buried her face in her hands, and took a deep breath.

Ginny put her hand on Hermione's arm. The younger girl prided herself at being perceptive of people's emotions. With her girl's intuition on top of that, she had an idea of what her friend was trying to say.

Hermione lifted her head and looked at Ginny. The redhead smiled and nodded once, signalling that she understood. Hermione seemed confused by her gesture but Ginny said nothing. It wasn't her place to call her friend out on something she didn't seem to know she felt yet, nor was it her place to try and talk her out of it. The girl couldn't help how she felt, but Ginny didn't want to see her get hurt.

She decided she would talk to Hermione about it as and when she was comfortable admitting that she had feelings for Malfoy and that she thought he could like her too. That was all Ginny had worked out based on odd bits of information she knew of, but as far as knowing if it was a fleeting hormonal crush or the real deal, she was stumped.

* * *

"How's Scar-Face looking as a date now, Greengrass?" Draco jeered when the blonde girl entered the common room. He swigged a bottle of Butterbeer happily when the Daphne bristled and shrugged off her winter robes, all the while glaring at him.

"Where'd you get that?" She changed the subject, gesturing towards the Butterbeer.

"Kitchens. That is traditionally where one would get food and drink," Draco said with a hint of condescension.

Daphne's brown eyes rolled behind the lenses of her glasses, "How?"

"Well I _was_ planning on stealing it, but you'll never guess who works in the kitchens."

"Filch?" Blaise mused.

"That oaf, Hagrid?" suggested Crabbe.

"Hippogriffs?" Pansy teased.

Draco picked up the cork from his drink and threw it at her, "funnily enough, Parkinson had the closet guess; house-elves."

"Why would they give you that then? Surely they would have had orders from Dumbledore not to do that," Daphne said.

"One of them was that useless little thing that used to work for my family. The one Potter set free back in second-year," Draco explained, "he recognised me; didn't seem too perturbed by my presence though. Apparently school gossip reaches every corner of the castle, these days."

"So?" Crabbe said gruffly. He never was one for picking things up quickly.

"_So, _they all heard about me and Granger. Apparently the elf we used to own is a friend of hers, so it gave me the Butterbeer assuming that I was her friend also, despite how my family treated it." There was more of Draco's account to tell but he held his tongue for fear of his friends' reactions.

_The elf recoiled as its large eyes first fell on Draco. _

"_Young Mr Malfoy," it squeaked, "you shouldnts be in here, sir." In that moment Draco almost pitied the creature for having to call him 'sir' despite the not-so pleasant history they had. _

_As the elf spoke his name, many others turned their heads to look at Draco. They all knew whom he was from stories Dobby had told them, but none of them looked at the boy with contempt or fear. What Draco didn't know, was that they were also aware that he was going to the Ball with Hermione, and they were all familiar with who she was too, and her friendship with Harry Potter, whom Dobby often spoke highly of. _

_As Draco frowned in confusion at this unexpected reception from the creatures, the one he used to own was talking to another elf._

'_His elf' spoke again, "I is being told you is going to the Ball with friend of Harry Potter, sir."_

"_Hermione? Yeah I am," Draco replied, feeling a little disgusted at how freely the creature was speaking about his (well, not-so) private life. But he was pretty much powerless from reprimanding it. _

_The elf practically jumped with joy, "Yes, that be the name, sir. Dobby is having trouble with remembering her name. She is very kind to Dobby. She is campaigning for Elfish rights, sir."_

Ah, Dobby, that's what it's name is, _Draco thought to himself. And what campaign? The elf couldn't possibly be on about those stupid SPEW badges Granger had been sporting, could it?_

"_What campaign?" he asked._

"_Dobby is forgetting the name, but Miss Hermione is wanting more elves to be getting paid for their work, sir."_

_Draco sighed. His hunch had been correct. Trust Granger for being so high-and mighty about this. Was she unaware that pretty much all house-elves didn't want to be paid? Or was she just doing what _she_ thought was morally right, regardless of what the elves thought? It was a stupid question to ask himself; Draco knew deep down it would be the latter scenario._

_Her campaign was bloody stupid but part of Draco found it a little humbling that Granger was still so invested and passionate about the idea. _

"_I see," he said. _

"_If it isn't too bold of Dobby to say, Dobby is thinking that Miss Hermione is making you a better, more good person, sir."_

"_What?" Draco said, a little too harshly._

_The elf gasped and began banging his head on the work surface, where rows of pies were cooling. The creature over-shot its target a few times, and head-butted the pies. Fruit and pastry flew everywhere, causing Draco to duck and dive to avoid being hit._

"_Bad Dobby. Bad Dobby!" The elf punctuated each bang with the repeated words. _

_Draco rolled his eyes. The elf was just as idiotic as it had been when it worked for his family. He dragged its bony arm away from the workbench and spun it around to face him._

"_Tell me what you meant when you said that," Draco said calmly, albeit through gritted teeth._

_The elf shook its head, "Dobby is saying too much. Dobby must punish himself for speaking his opinions when he was not asked sir."_

"_Look… Dobby," Draco sighed, "you work for that old coot, Dumbledore now. You don't have to listen to what I say and punish yourself for it."_

_Draco saw tears brimming in the elf's enormous eyes. He couldn't comprehend exactly why he felt sorry for the thing, but he felt somewhat responsible for the way it had to punish itself after all this time. His father was the main culprit for damaging the elf in such a way, but Draco wasn't totally guilt-less at the same time. He realised how much his family had messed it up, and he felt as if karma was making him pay the price for it now._

"_Just tell me what you meant. I won't get angry," the last statement had been Draco speaking more to himself than the elf. _

_Dobby shuffled in obvious discomfort for quite some time, and seemed reluctant to speak. But it did so nonetheless._

"_Miss Hermione is telling Dobby about you sir, when she is visiting Dobby with Harry Potter and his Weezy. She is telling Dobby that you is being nice to her now, and how this is making her happy. At first Dobby isn't believing her, but Miss Hermione is a smart girl. Dobby didn't know about the Ball until just now, sir, and forgive Dobby for what I is about to say. The last time I is seeing you, you is being not very nice to Dobby. You is seeming much different and grown up tonight, sir."_

_Draco pursed his lips and nodded vaguely. He recalled Hermione saying something similar to him when they'd been in the broom cupboard. She'd said she thought the apology and truce had been mature and grown up, and now she had allegedly divulged her thoughts to the elf, too. _

_Draco suddenly felt like a fraud. He in no way deserved credit, and yet Hermione thought he was worthy of it. He wasn't expecting to care so much; if anything he should be crediting _himself _for pulling the wool over her eyes so easily. That was how he had imagined feeling when Daphne first brought up the bet. It was true that once he'd started discussing the truce with Hermione, he realised what a good idea it was. But the fact was that without the bet, Draco would have been too arrogant and proud to even think about doing such a thing. He was a joke. A coward. And he certainly wasn't going to stand for that._

Damn Granger, _he thought. Draco could tell that if she hadn't been singing his praises to elves he wouldn't be feeling like this. It was pathetic but also a little touching that his recent actions towards her had affected her so much. Draco shuddered, not liking how Hermione being affected was affecting him. He felt guilty that her re-evaluated opinion of him was all built on pressured and half-hearted olive branches that to begin with, he didn't even mean._

_He was desperate to gain back some pride and dignity. He was Draco Malfoy; he shouldn't care what people thought of him, but Granger had somehow wormed her way past his defences. He refused to feel guilty. It wasn't his fault, not really. If anything Daphne should feel like the guilty one for coming up with the rules and requirements for the bet. All Draco was doing was trying to win. It wasn't his fault that Hermione reacted like she did…was it?_

_Nevertheless, Draco knew he wouldn't be able to shake this feeling unless he started proving, if only to himself, that he meant all of the things he suggested to her. To some extent, Hermione deserved that as well given that she had so willingly accepted him and tried to see the good in him when it was painfully evident that Potter and Weasley still loathed his guts. _

_Draco was beginning to get a headache with all of these thoughts and emotions he was feeling. He always knew that Granger would be the death of him._

"_Right," he told the elf whilst scratching his head "I just came down here for some Butterbeer."_

_Dobby bowed and retrieved a bottle in no time. Draco was surprised at how co-operative it was being, but he wasn't going to argue. He needed that drink to clear his head. It was originally intended as a treat for himself for finally completing the first stage of the bet, and for passing his Charms exam – not that Granger had helped him achieve that - but these could now just be his excuses if his friends asked why he had it. _

'_Er, thanks," he said to the elf. Merlin, what was happening to him today? He just thanked a house elf._

"Draco?" The blond was pulled from his thoughts as he heard Blaise talking to him.

"Hm? Sorry, what are we talking about?"

"Oh just about how weird it is that Granger has been making friends with the bloody servants," Pansy supplied.

"Yeah it is a bit strange I suppose," mused Draco.

"Well not really," Daphne said. She could see how distracted Draco was, and noticed that he had been like that on a regular basis over the last few days. It was time to test the water, "isn't it logical that Mudbloods would be with their own kind – other freaks? She is friends with Hagrid after all," the girl never took her eyes off Draco, watching him like a hawk to gauge his reaction.

Before his brain had even processed the words, Draco snapped, "don't call her that." The sentence left his mouth and his eyes widened in horror and disbelief. His friends all fell silent, and were staring at him with dropped jaws.

"Well, well, well," Daphne smirked, "isn't this interesting? Got yourself a little crush, have you Malfoy?"

"Shut it," Draco spat, doing his best to regain his composure.

"'Course he doesn't," Blaise scoffed, "tell her, Draco." But the blond didn't say anything. He just ran a hand through his hair and stared at the floor; his eyes were steely.

Pansy refused to believe that Draco could have feelings for Granger. That would be a slap in the face if there ever were one. Not only had she played a big part in getting them together in the first place but also it had been because she wanted Granger to be humiliated at the Ball, and that would never happen if Draco had a crush on her.

"Did you seriously ask that, Greengrass? It makes more sense that this just means Granger has him wrapped around her little finger. You know how touchy she gets when we call her a Mudblood. I just take this as a sign that she's just got him well trained in the hope we'll stop calling her that too."

"Well of course _you'd_ say that Parkinson," Daphne said icily, "However I for one, don't hear Draco denying it."

She, Pansy and Blaise slowly turned to look expectantly at Draco.

Draco looked at his friends and sighed, "what Parkinson said," he mumbled.

"Ha!" Pansy smirked.

"He still didn't deny it," Daphne trilled in a singsong voice, examining her nails.

Draco exhaled sharply and rounded on the blonde girl, "No I bloody don't have a crush on Granger, all right? You're just pissed because I actually managed to convince her to go to the Ball with me, and now you're stuck going with Potter!"

"Don't get too cocky Malfoy, I'm still not convinced of your 'pulling' abilities. You did have quite a lot of help after all," Daphne shot Pansy a dark look.

"Oh, and you were doing nothing to sabotage things I was doing?" Draco hissed.

"I was just levelling the playing field," Daphne retorted.

"Hmm. Well, well, Greengrass, you didn't seem too ruffled about being stuck attending the Ball with Boy Wonder," Draco said. If Daphne wanted to play her mind-games, he'd do the same thing, "perhaps you're the one with the secret crush…"

"You're so pathetic, Malfoy," she rolled her eyes.

Draco rose from his seat with his hands in his pockets. He paused, and leant his head towards Daphne, as if listening for something. He shrugged after a few seconds, "forgive me but I don't hear you denying it."

Daphne scowled, and Draco was satisfied that he had made his point. He slunk away to the dormitories and collapsed on his bed, hoping that sleep would come to him fast to avoid any more awkward questions Blaise could ask him.

_To be continued…_

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**A/N: **So we've got the Hogsmeade trip coming up next. It's going to be another 3-parter. Pretty much had the idea for these chapters since I started writing this story... that's all I shall say for now.


	12. 21st December (Part 1)

**A/N: **This was a fun chapter to write :) Dress sizings are going to be touched upon here, and I just want to point out that sizes in the UK are one more than in the US so a size 6 here would be a size 4 in America. After some research I discovered that the sizings could also be 2 sizes difference instead of just one, so I pretty much gave up in figuring this out. I've made Hermione a UK 8 because that's the size I've been since I was 15 so I'm just going with it. I kept changing my mind if Ginny should be a 6 or a 4 but I settled for a 6... just go with it and accept it for what it is.. I _have_ tried! :)

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**The Imp in the Mirror**

**4 days until the Yule Ball**

"Bloody hell, Ginny where have you been?" Hermione asked in a panicky but relieved voice.

Ginny was wide-eyed when she jogged up to Hermione in the line in the Entrance Hall.

"Chill out, _Mum, _I just overslept," Ginny said dryly as she pulled on her hat and gloves.

"Then why did you just come out of the Great Hall?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"I'm a Weasley – food will always be a priority regardless if I oversleep," Ginny stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "why are you giving me the third-degree anyway?"

Hermione sighed and drew her winter robes tighter around her body as she and Ginny were cleared by Filch to head into Hogsmeade, and the bitter wind scraped against the skin on her face, "S-s-sorry. I was worried I'd have to go d-d-dress shopping without you. I wouldn't have a b-b-bloody clue what I was doing." Hermione tried to laugh but her teeth were chattering so much it was impossible to do so.

Snow was falling thick and fast, and was already an inch or so deeper on the ground than it had been when the girls had left the castle fifteen minutes ago. As much as they liked visiting the village, they were secretly envious of Harry and Ron, who had chosen to stay in the warmth of the castle walls since they already had their dress robes. Ron claimed he wanted to make the most of the peace, as most of the school would be going to Hogsmeade and would be staying at school for Christmas because of the Ball; however Harry had confided in Hermione that Ron simply didn't want to go because he didn't have enough money to buy replacement robes and it would be 'bloody torture' to watch everyone else buy lace and ruffle-less outfits whilst Ginny and Hermione shopped.

Regardless of Ron's sulking, Hermione told him that he and Harry would be more than welcome to join them for a drink in the Three Broomsticks in the afternoon, since they'd hopefully be finished by then. At first Ron seemed reluctant, but that was nothing a little bribery of Honeydukes sweets couldn't fix.

"Bloody hell," Ginny commented as they continued to trudge along the path to the little village, "I'm surprised this trip didn't get cancelled; those clouds look very ominous, don't you think?"

Hermione shielded her eyes from the snow with her hands and glanced up at the sky. Sure enough, dark grey clouds were grouping together, blocking out the already limited patches of blue.

"I s'pose they had to risk it since about half the school would want to buy stuff for the Ball today."

"Yeah but I would've thought safety would be Dumbledore's top priority," Ginny mused.

Hermione scoffed, "to be fair Gin, a bit of snow isn't exactly perilous compared to the bloody Triwizard Tournament that Dumbledore has allowed to happen, is it?"

"Good point. Merlin this school is so bizarre."

"Completely," Hermione agreed, "so where are we heading to first? And please decide quickly, my feet are like ice cubes."

"Malkin's Boutique. It's just opposite the Three Broomsticks. Come on."

Hermione followed Ginny to the shop, which had been specially opened by Madam Malkin's sister, Macie, to provide students with dresses, dress robes, shoes, accessories, jewellery, bags, make-up and pretty much anything the students would need for the Yule Ball. Hermione was a little sceptical when she saw how many students were cramming their way into the small building. She was more than a little convinced that there would barely be any room to breathe in there, but death-by-suffocation was worth it if it meant she and Ginny would get out of the freezing conditions – at least they'd be toasty _inside._

Just like their tents had been at the Quidditch World Cup, the outside of the shop was very deceiving, and was thankfully much bigger than it appeared to be. The main space was large; about twice as long as it was wide. The front half of the shop had a high ceiling, whilst the back half had a tiered second floor, which was accessible via iron staircases at either side of the shop, so the ceiling was about half the height in this area.

Oak floorboards covered the ground, and the walls were stone painted white, with torches and ceiling-to-floor length mirrors covering them. The ground floor had rails upon rails of evening gowns and dress robes; sorted by colour, size, length, style and neckline – Hermione immediately regretted zoning out on Ginny's waffle the night before upon seeing this – and a long row of changing cubicles ran along the far wall.

Looking up to the floor above, Hermione could see several shoe boxes stacked against the right-hand wall. The remainder of the floor and walls on the upper level were clear of products or furniture, bar mirrors or wooden chairs for changing shoes. There were also several levitating flat discs that held bags, jewellery, make-up, nail polish and hair accessories hovering mid-air at random points.

It was like a haven for the majority of the girls in the school, though Hermione felt very overwhelmed and intimidated and she'd barely walked two paces across the threshold. Students were milling around all corners of the boutique; some chatting excitedly with their friends; some looking rather stressed; some were playing tug-of-war over outfits (though these games weren't very friendly); and some were holding up several similar outfits waiting for their date's approval. The boys in these scenarios seemed oblivious to what exactly the difference was between them, much to the chagrin of the girl.

Even Hermione couldn't decipher the differences; if Ginny weren't here there was a very good chance she would have run away…or fainted…whichever came first.

Ginny, for once, hadn't picked up on Hermione's dumbfounded awe. She too, was staring around the shop, though there was a wide grin on her face.

"Holy crap!" she exclaimed, a little breathlessly. Hermione was thinking the same thing, though in a completely different context and tone.

"Is everything okay, dearies?" A kind and slightly cockney voice said from nearby.

The two girls realised that they had been stood in the doorway for quite some time. They looked to where the voice came from and saw a small, plump woman squeezing herself through the narrow space between the wall and a rack of dresses. This manoeuvre wasn't the smoothest, for her spectacles were slightly crooked and her hair was coming loose from its bun when she emerged; however the witch was smiling.

Hermione inhaled sharply through her nostrils. It was like a bloody agility course in here; this would surely be the death of someone as _un_-athletic as her.

"Are you okay?" she asked the middle-aged witch sceptically.

"Oh yes, yes. It's part of the fun ain't it girlies?" she said cheerily as she fixed her hair again with a flick of her wand, "I remember when I was at Hogwarts; never had anything as fancy as the Yule Ball in my day," the woman sighed and momentarily spaced out at nothing in particular.

Ginny and Hermione exchanged looks; both were yet to decide what they thought of this woman. What Hermione _did_ know, was that she was way too happy to be working somewhere like this. Ginny cleared her throat and the witch came to again.

"Oh, was I away with the pixies again? Apologies dearies, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Macie Malkin. I presume you are both acquainted with my sister?"

The girls nodded. "Splendid! Splendid!" Macie laughed, "Now if you're looking for shoes and accessories, go up the stairs and feel free to browse. If you're looking for dresses, follow me."

Macie turned and started walking to the left side of the room. Hermione and Ginny had to rush and swerve out of the way of bustling students to keep up with her. It was quite surprising that someone of Macie's stature and build could be so agile. Hermione felt like such a klutz in comparison.

Macie stopped in front of a large mirror with an ornate, carved, wooden frame and gently guided Ginny by the arm to stand in front of it, all the while humming to herself leisurely. Ginny turned to ask her what she was supposed to be doing when the voice of an upper-class English woman spoke.

"Ginevra Weasley. Height: 59 inches. Bust: 30 inches. Waist: 25 inches. Hips: 32.5 inches. Dress Size: 6."

"Thank you!" Macie replied to the disembodied voice. She had, at some point, whipped out a sheet of parchment and was scribbling down Ginny's measurements.

"What in the name of Godric's underpants just happened?" Ginny asked. She turned to Hermione at first, but she was just as stumped as her friend was. Hermione had never heard – or read – anything like this before. Then again, fashion-orientated charms and objects wasn't really her cup of tea.

"'Tis the mirror of Polly-Anne Padmore," Macie replied. Upon seeing Ginny and Hermione's blank expressions, she continued patiently, "ah, I forget how young you girls are. Polly-Anne Padmore was a famous designer in the Wizarding World. I was only a nipper myself when she died. Anyhoo she had a chain of studios and boutiques around the country; used to dress the most famous wizards of her time, Padmore did. Each one of her studios had a mirror just like this one to save time on all of that measuring malarkey my sister still insists on doing."

"How does the magic work?" Hermione asked; surprisingly feeling rather intrigued by the whole thing.

"No-one knows. It was Padmore's own invention. She never told a soul for fear o' other designers stealing her idea. Many people have wanted to dismantle one of the mirrors to find out how it worked, but Padmore used to go around telling ev'ryone there was a curse inside, so no-one would live to share her secret."

"That's a lie, surely." Ginny scoffed.

"That's what Martin Alvey said two years ago. Few days after he dismantled a mirror he was as dead as a doorknob."

Ginny's face fell and Macie started laughing, "Oh I'm just messin' with you, dearie. Of course it's probably just a myth but you never know do you? Anyway, take it away Parkin," Macie was seemingly speaking to the mirror by the end of her explanation.

"You named the mirror?" Hermione blinked rapidly in disbelief.

"Good gracious no," Macie laughed, "one of the carved imps on the frame of the mirror has a charm on it. Padmore originally intended it to be used as a kind of 'personal shopper' for her clients and customers in her boutiques, again to speed things up, but she and her husband had a falling out you see – he demanded Padmore to hand a vast amount of her profits to him or he'd divorce her. Padmore, being a strong woman, went straight to the divorce lawyers herself, so her husband altered the charm in the hope it would drive away business. Apologies in advance, dearie."

"What are you-" Ginny began, but she was cut off by another voice. This time, it was the deep voice of a man, though the upper-class accent remained.

"Oh dear, dear. Look at this ghastly complexion." The tone of the voice was obnoxious.

"Hey!" Ginny exclaimed. She spun around on the spot as she tried to identify the source of the voice. She heard the soft beating of wings around her ears, and finally her eyes landed on a peculiar looking thing. The small creature was apparently the charmed imp from the mirror, because it looked as though it was made of wood.

The imp looked a little like a pygmy puff snowman with wings. It had a pom-pom like body and head, with a cute though slightly pompous squashed in face that reminded Hermione of her cat, Crookshanks, and it's limbs were like those of Cornish pixies. It crossed its wooden arms as it scrutinised Ginny.

"Then again, I could say the same thing to you, Wood Grain," Ginny said dryly to the creature.

"Touché, Ginevra, though the name's Parkin," the imp flitted around her with its fingers on its chin, as though in deep thought. It was bizarre that such a deep voice could come from something so small.

"Hmm. Light, pastel hues would suit you best, Ginevra," Parkin confirmed as he circled back around to face Ginny, "it would compliment your Ginge- er, _red_ hair nicely."

Ginny nodded, "well that narrows it down at least. Thanks, I think."

"Yes, yes, yes. I'm a genius I know, now move on." The imp waved its tiny hand away, and Ginny muttered a curse word under her breath at it before standing beside Hermione.

"You next, dearie," Macie smiled, parchment at the ready to take Hermione's measurements.

By the time she stood before the mirror, the imp had disappeared, and the disembodied female voice rang out.

"Hermione Granger. Height: 64 inches. Bust: 32 inches. Waist: 26 inches. Hips: 33 inches. Dress size 8."

"Thank you," Macie said as she scribbled the information down. She glanced at Hermione, "Apologies again. You know what's next."

Hermione gulped and readied herself. Whatever she and Ginny had planned the night before, being mildly insulted by a wooden imp certainly wasn't on their to-do list.

"Oh, heavens," the arrogant voice of Parkin met Hermione's ears. From years of being tormented by Draco, she knew all too well what the creature would throw at her, "this hair is just…hideous. I certainly don't envy your hairdresser, child. And these clothes certainly don't do you any justice. It is making my job rather difficult as I have no clue of your body shape is. Remove those winter robes, now."

The imp folded its arms. Hermione scowled at it. Never mind that she could handle it because of Draco: this thing could _be_ Draco. She sighed and tossed her robes to the side, smoothing down her jumper the best she could.

"Hmm." Parkin circled around her like he did to Ginny, "you are very… stick-like, Hermione."

"You're one to bloody talk," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"Yes I think we established that I am wooden when I was advising Ginevra."

"Insulting was more like it," Ginny cut in.

The imp ignored her and spoke to Hermione again, "What I meant, was that there is very little shape to you."

"I'm only fifteen!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Nevertheless," Parkin said pompously, "you're going to need a dress with some element of layering around the hips. A fitted bodice with that would look exquisite on you."

Hermione was shocked the imp was capable of saying nice things. She muttered her thanks to Parkin and moved to stand next to Ginny, not wanting to prolong her conversation with him any further.

"Well I hope his advice will help you two find perfect dresses, girls," Macie said kindly, "he may be an obnoxious creature but Parkin knows what he's talking about."

"Yeah he does," Hermione had to admit, "how come he said I need layering but not Ginny? She's just as skinny, if not skinner, than I am."

Macie perused her parchment, "well looking at your measurements, Ginevra has a greater difference of bust-to-hip ratio than you, Hermione. Perhaps that is why. You may question him if you wish, but I daresay you girls are anxious to get your shopping done now."

"I think I'll take his word for it," Hermione laughed humourlessly, "thank you Macie."

"Not at all dearies, now run along. Just come and find me if you need any assistance."

Hermione and Ginny nodded and turned towards the crowded shop floor.

"Should we separate to find our own dresses or should we stick together and do one at a time?" Ginny asked.

"Did you seriously just ask me that?" Hermione laughed.

"Okay, fine. So, let's get mine first, Stick Lady," Ginny grinned.

The girls managed to locate Ginny's dress quite easily once they managed to access the 'size 6' rails - a task that had been easier said than done. There was a constant crowd of students so it was a matter of 'push your way to the front, grab anything pastel-y and get out. Then 'keep what you like, push your way to the front, return unwanted dresses and repeat'. There was also the option of going to the rails that were sorted by colour, but that meant having to scrutinise each label for the size and given the hectic rush they had to work in, the girls opted for the size rails.

Hermione toyed with the idea of using a summoning charm, but she feared the dresses would get battered from being dragged through the crowd, so the job had to be done the Muggle way. The girls took it in turns to dive into the mass. After Hermione emerged for the third time with no new options, panting and red-faced, it was time for Ginny to try on the four dresses they managed to get.

Ginny was evidently very decisive when it came to knowing if she did or didn't like something, which was like a god-send to Hermione, who would be of no more use than the boys who had been dragged in by their dates if it came down to choosing for her friend. Hermione only ended up seeing Ginny in one of the dresses.

"Were the other ones so terrible that you couldn't face me?" Hermione joked.

"This is the only one that suits me," Ginny admitted, "two of them had quite low, scooped necklines that looked stupid with my non-boobs, and the purple one clashed horribly with my hair."

"Fair enough," Hermione said, "but I have to admit, I really like the one you have on."

"Me too," Ginny smiled as she examined herself in one of the giant mirrors, "that bloody imp really does know what he's on about," she added reluctantly.

The style of the dress was simple and sleeveless, with a mint green collar and overlay skirt. The main bodice and skirt were baby pink, and there was a hot-pink belt around the waist, as well as three stars of the same colour for decoration on the bodice. Hermione never would have dreamed that those colours would work together, but they did, and together, the colours only made Ginny's hair even more vibrant.

"Hey, there's even a bit of lace around the collar," Hermione pointed out.

"Even better. Ron would be even more convinced he'd be wearing a dress instead of robes now," Ginny smirked, "although it's a bit too long. I'll have to leave it here to be altered."

Hermione was about to respond when a disgruntled and shrill groan echoed around the room, which was saying something given how crowded and noisy the shop was. Pansy Parkinson came storming towards them. She stopped midway on her mission to get to Ginny's vacated changing cubicle to scrutinise the girl.

"Having fun dressing up like a box of sherbets, Weasley?"

"What's got you so worked up Parkinson?" Ginny asked, cleverly not rising to the jibe.

"That bloody little imp thing in the mirror," she snapped, tossing the dresses into the cubicle.

Ginny smirked, "what did he tell you, that you'd be better off buying your outfit in a Muggle pet shop? That is where they sell outfits for dogs after all."

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or gasp at the boldness of Ginny's words. Pansy bristled; her eyes were stormy and fierce.

"Don't push your luck you filthy Blood-Traitor," she hissed.

At that moment, Viktor emerged from the crowd, looking very confused.

"Pansy, vhat are you doing? The imp told you not to buy dresses zat are not floor-length because your calves are too fat." He obviously didn't understand what was so wrong about what he said, for he merely blinked a few times when Pansy squeaked and drew the curtain across aggressively.

"Vhat did I say?" Viktor asked no one in particular. Hermione and Ginny exchanged glances and headed back to the throng of people once Ginny had found an empty cubicle and changed back into her normal clothes, leaving Viktor to his thoughts.

Ginny paid for her dress and explained the necessary alterations to Macie, who told her that the dress would be delivered to her dormitory before the Ball, so there'd be no need to come back to pick it up.

After that the girls repeated their earlier process, this time searching in the 'size 8' section of the 'style' rails (luckily this section was so big that it had to be divided up into sizes too). Several knocks, pushes and bumps later, Hermione strode towards the changing area again, just about able to carry the seven dresses she and Ginny hadn't discarded from the ten they found.

Unlike Ginny, Hermione had to come out of the cubicle for her opinion with every dress. There were many disagreements between the pros and cons of the first six; however the initial reaction of the seventh was identical with them both.

"Oh Godric, you look amazing!" Ginny squealed as a beaming Hermione emerged from behind the curtain.

"Do you really think so? I mean I think so too but I didn't want to sound vain," Hermione laughed as she walked to the nearest mirror. This was definitely her dress. It was a little expensive even though the entire shop had been priced fairly for a student market, but Hermione knew she had to get it. In that moment she finally understood why brides spent so much money on their dresses; it wasn't stupid or done to show off how rich they are, it was purely out of necessity and need for their perfect dress.

"That bloody imp was spot-on," Hermione mumbled to herself as she looked at her reflection. She had purposefully pulled out a couple of dresses that had no layering in the hope that she could prove Parkin wrong, but she _did _look like a shapeless stick in those. This dress was just perfect. It was a periwinkle shade that was more light blue than purple. It complimented her fair complexion beautifully, with a floor length skirt and fitted bodice. There were several floaty pieces of fabric attached to the skirt, giving her hips more shape, and the same material was used on the straps of the dress. The only decoration it had was a dark blue belt around her waist, but other than that it was simple and just right for Hermione.

_Draco can get stuffed if he kicks up a fuss about this dress, _Hermione thought, though a tiny part of her secretly hoped that he _would _approve of it.

The dress didn't need any alterations as Ginny's had done, but Hermione asked Macie to keep a hold of it and to send it over with Ginny's out of fear that she would somehow ruin it within the few days they had left until the Ball.

Dress bought, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, though her happiness was short-lived when Ginny dragged her up the stairs to buy the accessories. Hermione had no need for a bag, as really, what would she put in it? They were obviously for showing-off purposes, so she idly browsed the jewellery and hair accessories. She didn't really expect to find anything but she needed something to do whilst Ginny tried on shoes.

Hermione gave up on the jewellery eventually. It struck her that she had a pair of blue, crystal stud earrings in the shape of flowers that her Gran had bought her for her birthday, so she focused on the hair things. Merlin knows if there were a chance to throw Draco's hair insults back in his face she would take it.

She was about to give up on these too, as most of the products on display were either the wrong colour or too flashy and garish, but a glint of blue shone at her from somewhere in the pile on the levitating disc, and Hermione reached out to examine it.

"Whatcha found, Mione?" Ginny asked as she peeked over Hermione's shoulder, "that's so pretty, you have to buy it," she said as she took note of the barrette in Hermione's hand.

In the centre of the barrette was a blue flower that matched the colour of her dress perfectly. In the centre of the flower was a circular crystal that sparkled in the light. Spanning out from either side of the flower to the ends of the barrette were small blue leaves and scattered, smaller crystals. A smaller version if the flower was positioned at the very ends. It was elegant and beautiful, and Hermione wanted it so badly. Not only did it match her dress but it would go well with her earrings too.

With a pounding heart, Hermione flipped the price tag and let out a brief wail of despair. It was 9 Galleons and 17 Knuts: £45 in Muggle currency. It was ridiculously expensive for something so small, but Hermione still wanted to find some excuse to buy it. Never before had she felt like such a girl; first she was obsessing over things matching and now she wanted to waste her money for the purpose of one night- a night to be spent with Draco Malfoy, no less.

"Ouch," Ginny commented, "I guess that's what you get for those crystals."

"Mmm," Hermione said absently. She reluctantly placed the barrette back on the stand, but didn't take her eyes off it. So much for showing Draco up about the hair thing.

"What have you got, anyway?" Hermione asked as a means to distract her thoughts from the barrette.

"Some green flats and a mint-green choker necklace," she said, holding up each item as she did so.

Hermione nodded her approval. She needed shoes too but she didn't much fancy browsing now and buying shoes when the barrette was so close that Hermione could hear it calling her name, wanting to be bought. Hermione ignored its non-existent pleas and dragged Ginny down the stairs to pay for her accessories. She'd just have to settle for charming some of her own shoes to match the colour of her dress, or borrowing some from Lavender or Parvati.

Hermione and Ginny left the Boutique and hurtled across the street and into the Three Broomsticks as fast as they could; the snow was falling faster than it had been earlier and the wind had picked up considerably.

The two girls somehow managed to find an empty table in the crowded pub. Hermione slumped into one of the chairs and ordered two Butterbeers. She was exhausted after the couple of hours they had spent in the shop, and happily allowed relaxation to take over her body as she sipped her drink and chatted to Ginny.

Her bliss lasted for a whole two minutes when a new voice slithered its way into her brain.

"Hello, Granger," Draco Malfoy said.

_To be continued..._

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**A/N: **The hair barrette was based on something I found online. If you want to see the picture there's a link on my profile :)

Okay, updates may be a little slower after chapter 13. I've been on chapter 14 for days. It's kind of a biggie and it's really quite long. I've changed it around about 3 times as it is so apologies if there's a bit of a pause after the next update or so. (I like to have chapters pre-written in case I want to go back and change anything.) Anyways I'll update you on this once ch13 is up.. hopefully I would have managed to make progress by then! Thanks everyone!


	13. 21st December (Part 2)

**A/N: **As always, thank you to all of my lovely followers/ readers/ reviewers. I appreciate every comment I get and if you're reading this, it means a lot that you're sticking with this story, so thank you very much.

Don't be disheartened that I don't really go into much detail about the goings on at the castle whilst this Hogsmeade business is going on - I will tell all in a couple of chapters time :)

Enjoy!

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**The Storm**

**4 days until the Yule Ball - Part 2**

"Hello Granger," Draco Malfoy said.

Hermione frowned, "er, Draco?"

Draco nodded his response and turned to Ginny, "Weaslette."

Hermione's frown deepened when her friend didn't seem the least but surprised about his presence.

"Malfoy," she said calmly.

Draco nodded again and pulled up a chair from the next table. He sat down uninvited and ran a hand through the damp hair that had been falling in front of his eyes, shaking a vast amount of water and snow off in the process.

"It's snowing," he stated.

"You don't say?" Hermione said sarcastically. It was one thing for Draco to voluntarily come and sit down with them, but now he was making small talk. Something was definitely off.

"Just making conversation," Draco said.

"Why?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"I don't know how it works in Muggle households, but I was always taught that it was a polite thing to do in social situations."

Hermione glared at him; "sorry but, why are you here exactly?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "Bit rude, Hermione," he and Ginny shared a look before he continued, "and I'm here the same reason as everyone else – to get away from that infernal castle for a couple of hours."

"I didn't mean it like that and you know it," Hermione said. Draco's passive expression soon turned into a smirk; confirming to Hermione that he knew the true meaning of her words. She felt the need to elaborate nonetheless.

"I mean what are you doing _here_-here, at this table, with us?"

Again, Hermione saw Draco and Ginny lock eyes for a split second before Draco responded.

"Just came to see you," Draco cringed at how the words sounded. He cleared his throat and stared at the floor, hoping that his embarrassment would lessen if he didn't look at Hermione.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up, "excuse me?"

"You heard Granger, don't make me repeat it," Draco snapped. He shot a dark look to the redhead witch when Hermione was distracted as she drained the last of her Butterbeer.

"Why?" Hermione hiccupped. She had drunk too fast from the shock of Draco's response. Her heart hammered against her ribcage in anticipation of what he would say next, and she willed it to stop.

"Have you forgotten already? We're going to the Yule Ball together – I need to pick your brains about this dress of yours since you oh so kindly left me out of that little venture," he drawled.

"Oh," Hermione said softly. It was now her turn to stare at the floor and avoid Draco's gaze. She should have known it would be something trivial. She felt foolish for thinking for a second that Draco had sought her out just to have a chat. Why would he, after all? The only times they had been together had only been out of necessity, bar the time in the broom cupboard of course, and Hermione remembered all too well how that had turned out, regardless of how strangely easily they seemed to get along up until that point.

"I should have known this was only for your personal gain," she scoffed, though her eyes remained fixated to the stone floor, "you're just here to assess my outfit choice aren't you? And probably all too prepared to reject it."

Draco frowned, unable to understand why Hermione seemed so agitated all of a sudden. He picked up a napkin from the table and reached across to dab Hermione's face with it.

"Hold still, you've got a Butterbeer 'stache," he said as he gently pressed the napkin to Hermione's upper lip. She finally met his gaze. Her eyes were wide, searching and calculating, and Draco gulped. He didn't know whether she was going to punch him or even make comment, but he carried on regardless.

"As much as that look suited you, and perhaps made you look a tiny bit like Hagrid, I'm personally not a fan of facial hair on my dates," he tried to lighten the atmosphere once the last trace of Butterbeer foam was gone.

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best thing to say after Hermione's comment about him being there to assess her appearance. Her curious expression was gone in an instant, and her eyes hardened.

"I'm going to the bathroom, be right back," she said to neither of her companions in particular. She rose from her chair and scurried into the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face as she entered.

"Well that was interesting," Ginny said, giving Draco a pointed look.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" he asked, though the question was directed more to himself than the witch.

"I'm going to go check on her. Don't you dare go anywhere," she told him as she got up.

"Don't speak to me like that, you should be thankful I don't tell her what's really going on," he shouted after her, but she had already disappeared into the girl's bathroom.

Draco sighed. He went over to the bar and ordered a Butterbeer, returning to the table a minute later. He sat and waited for the girls to emerge, and his mind wandered back to that morning.

* * *

"Hey Pot…er, Harry," Daphne called from beside Draco as she saw Harry and Ginny enter the Great Hall.

Harry's head snapped up at the sound of her voice, and he and Ginny walked over to where she and Draco were sitting.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"I'm writing home today to inform my family's dressmaker my requirements for my Yule Ball dress," Daphne explained.

"You have a dressmaker?" Ginny scoffed in disbelief.

"No-one asked you, Weasley," Daphne sneered at her; an expression that Ginny returned without a moment's hesitation.

"So, er, yes, dressmaker, go on," Harry said awkwardly, not quite knowing whose side he should be taking.

"Right," Daphne continued, "I don't want us to clash, so tell me the colour, material and style of your outfit please." She was poised to scribble down notes, and looked expectantly at Harry.

Draco tried to mask his snort of laughter as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice. Potter's expression was priceless.

"Come on, it's not difficult," Daphne snapped, "are you sure those glasses aren't defective?"

"Er, well they're black dress robes. They came with this white shirt and bowtie. Oh, and there was this black waistcoat too."

"Mmm, and the material?" Daphne prompted.

Harry scratched his head and looked to Ginny for help but she just shrugged. Draco couldn't quite tell if she genuinely couldn't offer any help or if she was simply enjoying her friend's apparent struggle. By the look on her face, she too, was finding it rather amusing. Draco couldn't help but feel mildly impressed by this.

"Uhh, dress robe material?" Harry winced.

"Honestly Potter were you born with no brain?" Daphne sighed.

It didn't take long for a minor argument to spark between Daphne and Harry over his incompetence to determine the material of his robes. Well it wasn't so much an argument as it was Daphne shouting and Harry standing there looking completely baffled by it. Whilst Draco was quite happy watching this unfold, Ginny had other ideas.

"Malfoy, can I have a word?"

"Can't it wait for five minutes?" He said irritably.

"No," Ginny replied flatly. Draco wanted to retort but it was too early in the morning to be on the end of one of her Bat-Bogey hexes, so he refrained.

"Fine," he reluctantly hauled himself up from the bench and walked a short distance away so he and Ginny wouldn't be overheard.

"What?" he asked as she walked around the table to join him.

"Okay, just so we're clear, I want you to answer these questions as honestly and sincerely as possible. I don't want to hear any smart-arse remarks or any sarcasm, or I'll hex you into next week," she warned.

"Merlin, are all of you Gryffindors so violent?" Draco muttered without thinking. He saw the girl whip out her wand and point it at his face in a flash. He shrank back against the wall with his hands up, "sorry, sorry. Starting now I'll be serious, okay?" He relaxed when Ginny slipped her wand back into her pocket.

"Although that was a rather impressive manoeuvre – you'd make a fair Quidditch player," he stated, trying to charm the girl.

"Flattery won't make me go easy on you, Malfoy," Ginny said in a business-like tone, "what's your game with Hermione?"

"Huh?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "I'll rephrase the question. You asking her to the Ball isn't part of some elaborate scheme to hurt her or embarrass her, is it?"

"If I wanted to do that, there are much easier ways to achieve that goal. So, no, I don't plan on doing anything sneaky or underhanded," Draco replied honestly.

If anything his goal for that night was quite the opposite; to win the bet he'd have to spend the whole night in Hermione's company. He realised he didn't actually plan on intentionally hurting her, full stop. The night of their detention with Flitwick he realised how insecure she seemed when he pointed out the reasons why he was surprised that she was wearing perfume. He'd broken through her walls then, and now that he had seen a vulnerable Hermione, he didn't want to cause any more damage to her esteem. The only reason he had enjoyed tormenting her up to this point was because she had never shown any sign of weakness… trust her to unknowingly ruin his fun!

Ginny took in his expression and body language, supposedly searching for any kind of give-away that he was lying.

"What's the big deal anyway?" Draco asked. "I get that you want to look out for her, but she isn't exactly a stranger to being embarrassed or hurt by me or my friends."

Ginny's face hardened and her hand moved to her robes but Draco caught her arm and stopped her from drawing her wand again, "I didn't mean that like it sounded. I was just stating the truth. If you must know I'm rather regretting some of the things I've done and said to her in the past. Over the last week or so I have actually come to respect her and maybe even like her to a degree – as a friend, that is."

This seemed to convince the redhead as she shook away Draco's hand and looked up at him, "I can't give you a straight answer on that, but let's just say I have a feeling these aren't normal circumstances between the two of you anymore, so I feel the need to protect her."

"What the hell are you-"

"Prove it to me, Malfoy," Ginny interrupted. "Prove you're serious about this Yule Ball thing and that you don't want to hurt Hermione."

"How?"

"Meet us in the Three Broomsticks later, we're going to get our dresses today. I've heard from a few people that you two aren't as hostile to one another anymore, but I'd like to see it for myself. Just come alone, without your goons, and prove that you were serious."

Draco pondered her request. He didn't know why he was doing this as really he didn't have much of a choice, lest the witch who stood before him hex off his balls. It couldn't do much harm; his friends all thought he had a thing for Hermione because of his 'don't call her a Mudblood' outburst from the night before, and it was his chance to get rid of the guilt he had been feeling ever since his conversation with Dobby.

Draco also had to admit that Hermione could actually be quite fun; they each wound the other up so easily that Draco had grown to enjoy the challenge of out-witting her, or trying to at least.

"All right," he nodded, keeping his expression blank.

"Good," Ginny said, "though you cannot tell Hermione I told you to come."

"Because?"

"She'll freak out if she thinks I have to look out for her. If I let on that I think things are different now then she'll start second-guessing herself. She's always been so independent and sure of herself, with a really good instinct to boot. I have a good idea of what her mind-set is of you, Malfoy, and knowing that I suspect something will make her paranoid that her assessment wasn't as accurate as it normally is, she may be wary around you or start picking fights, and Merlin knows that would just crush any kind of friendship the two of you have built."

Draco looked confused and Ginny couldn't blame him really. It would have been so much easier to explain if she knew for certain whether Hermione had a crush on Draco or not. What she had been trying to say was that if Hermione knew that Ginny knew of her feelings, she'd be unable to deny it any longer, and so she'd make herself vulnerable to being hurt; crushes could so weird things to your judgement after all.

Draco wanted to question the witch further but she had disappeared into the Entrance Hall, where students were beginning to leave for Hogsmeade. He hung back for a few minutes before he joined the line. His head could quite process what Ginny meant about things being different, but Draco's stomach was twisting and his heart was beating rapidly as he left the castle a few minutes later, not that he knew why.

* * *

"Oh Ginny what's wrong with me?" Hermione said as her friend entered the bathroom.

"Well you've been freakishly girly for your standards today," Ginny laughed, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione smiled weakly, "I suppose this Ball is giving me the chance to prove more than just the one thing." The conversation she'd had with Draco in their detention flitted through her mind.

"What did Malfoy say that freaked you out so much?" Ginny asked, "Surely you would've expected him to say something obnoxious like that"

"I know it's just, I felt a bit embarrassed. Some part of me thought he came just to see me for the sake of seeing me."

Ginny couldn't help but feel guilty when Hermione said this. If only she'd just admit her crush already then maybe Ginny could tell her the truth.

"Honestly Mione, he _could_ be here for that reason for all we know. Even though everyone knows you two are going to the Ball together, it's still a pretty big step for him to be here without the other Snakes. That dress stuff could have just been an excuse to hide his real reason. I wouldn't put it past him to be in denial that you two have actually formed a friendship."

"You think we have a friendship?" Hermione asked.

Ginny arched an eyebrow, "and by the look of it he isn't the only one in denial."

"I don't see how that's possible. He's still the same arrogant, superior, snarky ferret. I've just been tolerating his company that's all."

"Yeah," Ginny said slowly, "people don't go running away into the bathroom when the 'person-they-are-tolerating' allegedly is here for a reason other than to just have a chat."

"But-"

"But nothing," Ginny said, "honestly I'm the only one whose head it screwed on right today. Of course he's still the same person; people don't just change overnight."

"Then how can I be considering him as a friend?!" Hermione exclaimed. She had been feeling confused about Draco for a couple of days now, and she had been hating every moment. She didn't like it when she couldn't even see what was happening between then when evidently it was blindingly obvious to other people.

"Because one thing about him has changed, and maybe that's what has made you accept him. His bigoted views on Pureblood supremacy aren't leading his life anymore; the fact that he's extended so many olive branches to you shows that."

Hermione's cheeks warmed as the reality of the situation came crashing down.

"Well now you come to mention it, he hasn't been nearly as annoying as I found him at first…oh Merlin what's happening to me?" Hermione's voice trailed off and she buried her head in her hands.

"Mione, is something else bothering you?"

Hermione looked at Ginny's face and knew immediately that she didn't really have to say anything. Ginny already knew. She knew before Hermione did.

"Whatever it is you already think, I'll confirm it now. It's true. Just don't say it out loud yet."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "bloody hell Hermione, you and Malfoy can be so similar sometimes."

Hermione opened her mouth to question this but Ginny continued speaking, "The idea of it is completely insane, I know, but as much as you may want to, you can't change the way you feel about someone."

"How can you be so calm about this?"

"Because I can't do anything to change the way you feel either, and I think I'm the only friend you have who knows that. Harry and Ron have had too much history with Malfoy to make a rational judgement about anything. Besides it's probably just a fleeting hormonal thing anyway – purely physical. Don't stress out too much yet."

Hermione took a couple of deep breaths and gave Ginny a hug. Purely physical; that didn't sound nearly as scary the word 'crush', which suggested emotional attraction too. She and Draco had only ever had one or two meaningful conversations in the four years they had known one another; there certainly couldn't be any chance of Hermione feeling anything more than a physical draw to him. This made her feel considerably more at ease about the whole thing.

"Oh Godric you're the one who asked him here aren't you? That's why you were almost late meeting me in the Entrance Hall this morning!"

"Yeah. Don't flip out on me. I was testing him to see if this whole truce business is legit – thinking what I now know about you, I didn't want you to be hurt, because Merlin knows you would have felt awful if you let your guard down and he took advantage of it. And it you ask me, Malfoy turning up speaks volumes."

With that, Ginny slipped out of the bathroom and Hermione followed. As soon as she stepped foot into the pub her eyes met with the grey ones of the wizard whom she desperately wanted to hate.

"What were you two doing in there, giving each other makeovers? Though they aren't very good ones, if so," Draco said irritably as he drained his second glass of Butterbeer. The girls had been gone at least ten minutes.

Hermione sneered at him, "Very funny, Draco."

"Thanks, I thought so," he smirked and folded his arms behind his head.

Hermione and Ginny shared a look, and Hermione felt oddly relaxed by the boy's shrewd words. She felt relatively normal again: his attitude just proved that her feelings for him were just physical. If Draco had a mute button she was sure he would be irresistible to her.

Draco wasn't blind to the silent exchange between the girls, and twiddled his thumbs under the table. He didn't want to press them for the fear that they'd been talking about him, and he didn't want to start a fight and throw away his efforts of getting this far in the bet.

After sitting there awkwardly for a few more minutes, the three of them decided to leave the pub and head back down to Hogwarts.

Hermione, Ginny and Draco exited the Three Broomsticks and stepped outside to face the elements. A storm had been brewing for the past hour and had finally hit. Trunks of trees seemed close to snapping from the wind and the sky was almost black despite it being not long past midday. The heavy snowfall from earlier was now like a blizzard, the white flakes swirling aggressively in the wind.

"Holy shit!" Draco had to shout over the rumble of thunder. He was already drenched: his hair sticking to his face and accentuating his pointed bone structure. "These robes cost a bloody fortune; now they're ruined!"

"How practical for winter robes…" Hermione said, rolling her eyes, though her voice was lost in the wind so the others didn't hear.

"I don't think Harry and Ron are going to be meeting us now!" yelled Ginny. There was a pause and she said, "Oh crap, I said I'd meet Colin and Luna in the Hairdressing Salon. Good luck getting back to school, you two!"

Ginny waved to Hermione and Draco and ran in the opposite direction, her head bent low to shield her face from the bitter cold.

The remaining pair set off across Hogsmeade, walking as quickly as possible and hugging their own bodies to preserve body heat. Hermione pulled out an umbrella from her bag and put it up, instinctively moving closer to Draco so she could shelter him too.

Draco recoiled, "What the bloody hell is that contraption?" He looked so scared it was almost funny, but he had stopped walking so Hermione began to drag him along.

"It's an umbrella!" She shouted.

"Sounds like a disease to me," Draco said, eyeing the umbrella uncertainly.

"Relax it just shelters you from the rain and snow, though I'm not sure how effective it will be in a storm like this. Come closer so you can stand under it too," Hermione replied.

When Draco didn't budge, Hermione continued, "Oh come on, you aren't going to get Muggle germs or anything."

"I know that!" Draco said unconvincingly, "I still think I'll take my chances with hypothermia though," he laughed.

"You wouldn't have to worry about that if you had proper robes."

"What?"

"Nothing!" Hermione said innocently.

Draco eyed her as if he knew she had said something insulting but he didn't press her on it.

As they approached the lane that lead down to the castle, Hermione could make out the shape of a small crowd through her limited vision.

"Settle down please!" Professor McGonagall's voice drifted through the air as Hermione and Draco joined the group of students, who were huddled tightly together like penguins. A blast of icy wind blew Hermione's umbrella inside out for the third time, so she gave up on it and stuffed it into her bag again.

The students in the group stopped their protests and chatter so the teacher could speak. McGonagall placed her wand to her throat and muttered a spell inaudibly. It must have been the amplifying charm Fudge used at the Quidditch World Cup because when she next spoke her voice was quite clear over the howling wind.

"I'm afraid this path is inaccessible. Three very large trees have fallen across it from being blown over by the wind. It would be difficult to levitate these out of the way in the best of conditions, even with multiple wands performing the spell. Frankly, it would take a great deal of luck, and effort to move the trees promptly, and what's more it would be too risky in this weather. With that being said, the headmaster is arranging for you all to be brought back to the castle via side-along apparition with the house-elves who work in the kitchens. This is the quickest means of getting you back safely in the storm."

Draco shook his head when he heard Hermione emit a shrill squeak of protest at this. Dobby had been right about her campaign after all.

"That could still take ages! Over half of the bloody school came today and really how many elves could there be? Are you just going to let us freeze to death until it's our turn?" Zacharias Smith complained.

"I'll have you know Mr Smith that most of the students decided to sensibly return early to avoid getting caught in the weather," McGonagall shot him a stern glare, "the owners of the shops have all been made aware of the situation and have agreed to accommodate you all until you are able to apparate. Some of the professors are stationed around the village to tell the other students about the circumstances. If there are no more questions, I will ask you all to find shelter and wait patiently. And please pass on instruction to any student you may encounter along the way, just to ensure they weren't missed by any of the teachers."

The crowd simultaneously turned and a small stampede ensued. Draco and Hermione were thankful to be standing at the back so they got a head start to get to the cosiest establishment. Draco broke out into a run back towards the Three Broomsticks and dragged Hermione by the hand with him.

"Do you have to be so competitive?" She said a little breathlessly, marvelling at how warm her hand now felt against Draco's despite the sub-zero temperature.

"Yes! And you should be bloody thankful I'm taking you with me." He shouted back.

"Why _are_ you dragging me with you?"

"No idea!" Draco laughed honestly.

Hermione didn't have the energy to argue. Eventually Draco's haste had paid off as they managed to secure a table back in the Three Broomsticks. This was at the expense of a few choice words and not-so friendly shoves from Draco, and several spluttered apologies from Hermione, but she was secretly thankful that they were here and not in the freezing Quill Shop. At least they could warm up with a Butterbeer in here.

"I never thought I'd say this but I'm thankful for your lack of manners in this circumstance," Hermione laughed as she clanked her glass against Draco's.

"See. It pays to have a Slytherin in your life," he said smugly and took a sip.

Hermione didn't comment, not knowing how he meant those words to come across. It got her thinking nonetheless, and her thoughts wandered until she heard Draco's teeth chattering.

"D-don't you d-dare say I'm being dramatic h-here," he glared.

Hermione rolled her eyes and took out her wand, "if you're good I'll see if I can manage a hot-air charm. It's quite tricky so I don't know how well I'd be able to do it."

"Whatever just try… _please_," Draco added when Hermione shot him a look.

Hermione managed to do the spell on her second attempt, and waved her wand around Draco's head and upper body, laughing as his hair flew around in tufts from the small blasts of air. Once she was satisfied most of the water was gone, she put her wand away and clasped her glass to warm her hands up.

"How come you didn't do your hair?" Draco asked.

"Because believe it or not, it gets worse than usual when I use heat to dry it."

Draco smirked at the mental image and coughed to mask his laughter.

"Plus the only benefit of the snow and rain is that it actually tames my hair nicely. I mean it actually falls down instead of outwards," Hermione laughed,

"Did you just mock your own hair?" Draco arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah. It really is hopeless; maybe that's why I get so defensive when _you_ mock it. I can't really do anything about it – even when I use conditioner," she glared slightly at the memory of his comment when they'd been in the broom cupboard.

"Sorry," Draco muttered, "if it's any consolation, it looks nice when it's not all bushy… even if the rest of you looks like a drowned rat."

"Hey!" Hermione hit him, but she was laughing.

Draco spilt a bit of his drink at the impact, but he laughed too, and both of them felt their walls crumble a little bit more.

"So now we wait?" Draco said.

_We? _Hermione thought, _Perhaps Ginny was right after all._

"Now we wait," Hermione smiled and took another sip of her drink.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N:** Bit angst-y in places but that's pretty much a given for this pairing I suppose.

See you all next chapter... it's a good'un ;D


	14. 21st December (Part 3)

**A/N:** Okay this is my longest chapter yet, but I've had this in my head since the beginning so I wanted to do it justice. It's my favourite chapter so far though so I hope I did.

For the purposes of this story, Madam Rosmerta is a muggleborn. You'll find out why later ;)

I don't own the song, the lyrics or the band as well as everything HP. You'll find out later ;)

This is a bit of an emotional rollercoaster so hold on tight and enjoy!

* * *

**A Pivotal Moment**

**4 days until the Yule Ball - Part 3**

"Quidditch."

"Of course it is," Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco arched an eyebrow, "is there any reason for that sarcastic tone, Hermione?"

"I was hoping your answer would be less predictable. That question you just asked counts by the way, so it's my turn again."

Draco glared at her, "Oh yeah, because it wasn't predictable when you responded with 'library' when I asked what your favourite place in the castle was." He worded this carefully so as to avoid phrasing it as a sarcastic rhetorical question.

Hermione returned the glare, "You shouldn't have asked that question if you wanted to avoid predictable answers."

The two of them were in the middle of a game of twenty questions, since they'd hit a wall of awkward silence about two minutes after they re-entered the Three Broomsticks. The game had, up until this point, been going well; with both of them learning new things about the other and finding that to some extent, they actually wanted to know the answers.

"You know, for someone who gets pissed off at my smart-arse remarks, you sure are full of them."

"I was just making a point." Hermione argued.

"No, you were trying to have the last word and pick a fight, like you always do."

"I am not!"

"Yes you are. You did this when we were in the broom cupboard too, when I tried to storm out and you dragged me back in," Draco pointed out. His voice wasn't raised but there was an edge of tension to it.

"Fine I'll let you have that one but I don't always do this – if anything it's you who always tries to get the last word."

"No way, it's just you being too bloody defensive and always having to be right."

"No – it's you being competitive and down right chauvinistic," Hermione hissed at him across the table. The crowd had dwindled significantly as house-elves apparated in and out of the building taking students back to Hogwarts, but she still didn't want unnecessary attention to be drawn to them.

"Please, you're just as competitive as I am," Draco scoffed.

"I am not!" Hermione said again.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Of course you are. We're both as bad as each other. In case it slipped your mind, I'd like to point out that throughout the duration of this argument neither of us has used a question. Whether that was intentional with you, I don't know. But it was with me so I don't lose anymore of my 'twenty questions' questions. Even with stupid games like that I don't want to lose, and it looks like you don't either."

Hermione had never thought about it like that before. Her throat suddenly felt dry so she took a swig of her Butterbeer before she spoke, "I'd like to use my next question now."

"Go ahead," Draco leant back in his own seat and folded his arms. It was reassuring to Hermione that his eyes were no longer looking like cold steel. They now seemed warmer, making his whole expression seem softer than it had been. Maybe he already knew what Hermione was going to ask, but she said it anyway.

"Do you suppose that in some ironic way, that this is why we argue all the time? Both of us always want the last word."

"Ah, so you admit it!" Draco smirked. Hermione would have hit him if Professor Vector weren't sitting so nearby. She wasn't exactly on full alert as she was explaining about apparition to a nervous third year boy, but it was still too much of a risk.

"Don't be a git," Hermione said, "answer the question."

Draco sighed and absently used his wand to repeatedly levitate and drop a pouch of Galleons onto the table. Hermione could tell that he wasn't really concentrating on this but she couldn't ignore how arrogant he looked causally sitting there showing off his money to everyone in the pub. Part of Hermione started to question if he intentionally meant to be self-righteous all the time, or if it was just the lack of connection from his body to his brain, as was happening now.

"It does make sense. It actually looks bloody obvious now you mention it," he said, "Merlin we're more similar than I thought."

"Maybe because you would've point-blank denied that you could ever have something in common with me before… well before you gave me beaver teeth," Hermione added.

"I suppose," Draco met her gaze, "I'm sorry about that."

Hermione frowned, "you already said that."

"I know," he gave her a small smile. _But this time I mean it, _he thought.

Hermione simply nodded in response and chewed her lip as she processed this newfound understanding she had with the blond wizard.

"You can't technically lose at this game by the way; you can only lose questions."

Draco clenched his jaw. This witch couldn't bloody help herself could she? "Same difference. It all comes down to the simple matter of-"

"Pride," Hermione finished for him.

"Pride," Draco repeated softly to himself, agreeing with Hermione and thereby exposing another similarity they shared. He drained the remaining Butterbeer from his glass.

"Why did you run off to the bathroom?" He enquired.

Hermione blinked in confusion.

"The game."

"Oh right," Hermione said, "how many questions do we have left?"

"I don't know, I lost count after that interesting little epiphany we reached. But either way, I get two in a row now since you just asked me something," he smirked at her, thankful that he was getting revenge from when he wasted a question earlier.

"Crap," Hermione cursed under her breath. She wasn't sure how she should tackle answering him, so a short pause stretched between them, "well I guess I just felt self-conscious since you made it quite plain that you only turned up to interrogate me about my dress."

"What did you have to feel self-conscious about? I never actually asked you anything. If I recall you jumped the gun and immediately assumed I wouldn't approve of it."

Hermione felt the blush creeping onto her cheeks. She kept trying to think up a way of wording her answer that didn't make her real reason obvious. Her discomfort didn't go unnoticed by Draco.

"I know you didn't. I made a snap-judgement about you and I'm sorry for that – I suppose I am rather defensive, but weirdly enough it's the dress I'm defending instead of myself" she laughed half-heartedly, "but that conversation we had in Flitwick's detention has been playing on my mind a bit. I still feel like my lack of femininity is why you Slytherins give me a hard time. Well, that and my blood status."

Draco's heart suddenly felt heavy. 'Vulnerable-Hermione' was resurfacing, and along with it came the immense guilt Draco had felt the first time. This was his chance to prove to her, and to himself, that he was worthy of the credit she had given him to Dobby. _Wait. No! I don't have to prove anything to her. If anything this is just to stop her from making me feel guilty…_

Draco tried to convince himself that this was purely for his own selfish gain, but he hated that part of him actually wanted to comfort her. He gingerly reached across the table and covered Hermione's hand with his own. She took a sharp intake of breath at the contact and stared down at their hands for a moment before pulling her own away.

Draco blinked, his hand still on the table. Did he just get rejected?

Hermione averted her gaze and played with a strand of her damp hair. She didn't even know why she moved her hand away; it was just instinct. In hindsight it was probably a wise move to establish boundaries with Draco, just until she knew exactly what was going on between them.

"Pardon me for attempting to console you," Draco muttered under his breath.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked as two more students disappeared with a loud _crack _of apparition.

"I don't know if it has escaped your notice, but I'm not really accustomed to giving mushy, wordy reassuring speeches." _And all the more reason why I need to win this bet, _he thought, _Damn you, Greengrass!_

Hermione suddenly understood what he meant, "Oh and let me guess: physical contact was the easy option. I wouldn't be surprised if this was your way of letting Parkinson down gently. It's no wonder she's still fawning over you after all this time!"

Draco scratched his head and began tapping his foot on the floor awkwardly. Hermione smirked.

"Oh Godric are you serious? What on earth made you think it would be a good idea to hold her hand as a way of telling her you're not interested? Honestly, Draco, just grow a pair and tell her how you really feel!"

Draco's heart seemed to stop for a split-second, with his rational thinking taking longer than usual to engage. Why, when Hermione said that, did a flash of memory of his earlier conversation with Weaslette shoot through his mind? Draco didn't really want to think about that right now.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I think that was two more additional questions you asked me," he said smugly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She didn't think they were still playing that stupid game! "Pathetic," she mumbled.

"No need to take your frustration out on me just because you let your guard down," Draco said, feigning innocence. He didn't quite manage to pull this look off, as there was no hiding the mischievous glint within his warm grey eyes that had greeted Hermione with a malevolent, icy reception countless times before.

"Git," Hermione's voice echoed into her glass as she took a sip of her drink. Her foot made contact with Draco's shin under the table, and she casually rubbed the tip of her shoe up his leg as Professor Vector glanced in their direction.

Draco frowned. What the bloody hell was she playing at? He wasn't left wondering for long as suddenly Hermione pulled her foot away and gently kicked him once she had seen the Professor look away again.

"Oomph. Merlin, Granger what the-"

"Oh my gosh, Draco I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?" It was Hermione's turn to play the innocent card. She leant over and touched his hand with her own. Her eyes were wide and apologetic, but her mouth soon stretched into a toothy grin.

"How do you like it?" she whispered as their faces became closer. Her eyebrows twitched upwards and she bit on her lip as she smiled at him, pulling away from him no sooner than she did so, looking very proud and smug.

Draco swallowed hard. He knew fully well what she was doing, and felt more than a little concerned that he found this carefree Hermione wasn't getting under his skin like normal-Hermione did. Both versions were annoying little know-it-all's with a fierce wit to boot, but it was new for him to see her laugh and not take herself too seriously. It just seemed to change her demeanour entirely when she wasn't being all serious and uptight about school.

"Well played, Hermione. You know, you always seem very Slytherin when you beat me at my own game like that."

"I do not!" she said defensively.

"Please," Draco waved a hand idly to show his dismissal of the idea; "I didn't miss that evil glint in your eye just now."

Hermione inhaled sharply through her nose. Did she really do that? She wasn't going to press him now though as that would mean losing more questions.

"In that case, I'd like to say that I think you extending all of these olive-branches to me was very Gryffindor of you."

She noticed Draco's knuckles turn white as he clasped his glass a little too tightly, "you dare say something like that to me again and I won't hesitate to revoke all of those olive-branches."

"Double standards much?" Hermione scoffed.

Draco clenched his jaw. She was right (as much as he hated to admit it). He had found it endearing to a certain degree the first time she outsmarted him, but twice in a row was too far. That seemed to be the line where she crossed back over to the insufferable, argumentative swot Draco first thought her as.

Hermione had been joking when she made the Gryffindor comment but she realised that that was where Draco's patience with her banter reached its limit. She bit her tongue, fighting back the urge to make another smart-arse remark. It annoyed her to no end that her agreement with Ginny meant that she had to tiptoe around Draco in such a way.

"That's three more questions to me, by the way," Draco arched an eyebrow at her, apparently now over his internal strop.

Hermione sighed, and conceded that if there were anything she would never be able to change about him, it would be his annoying need to be the best at everything. This was something she knew from first-hand experience of herself. She had come up with a logical reason for her competitive streak, but she couldn't even begin to fathom what his was.

_Oh well if he's already three questions ahead, what's the harm in a fourth?_

"Why do you always feel the need to one-up me?" she asked.

Draco snapped his head up, "are you seriously asking _me _that after just now?"

"I'm referring to your defensive come-back of declaring how you're in the lead of this game," Hermione said coolly as she began trying to flatten down her hair, which was considerably dryer now and was starting to puff out.

"Because you're the one person I _have_ to one-up," he answered honestly, "I don't particularly feel comfortable saying anymore right now though."

Hermione blinked in surprise. She hadn't expected a sincere answer from him at all. She had actually reached the human part of Draco, which was usually sealed off under lock and key in the deepest recesses of his heart. It wasn't often she saw his smug persona fall down to reveal the real, feeling boy underneath. She felt a little sad that he felt such a need to hide behind the mask like that.

"Okay, I respect that," she said, "go on then. Commence the interrogation of your three questions."

"Four."

"Three: you asked me – rather rudely I might add – if 'I was seriously asking you that question'?"

"Whatever," Draco said as he pondered what he should ask her next, "I still don't think this makes up for your line of questioning last week when I first proposed this truce though."

Hermione laughed and shook her head slightly.

"Since you made such a fuss about it earlier, I feel obliged to know what's got you so het up about this dress. Is it just me that you're worried about or am I missing something?"

Unbeknownst to him, he had sussed it out. He knew there was something more than the obvious bothering her. There was no way Hermione was going to tell him that though, so she didn't comment.

"It's a little of both. I know how spoiled you Malfoys are, and well, the dress is pretty much perfect so I feel the need to defend it from the disapproving remarks you'll undoubtedly make when you see it."

Draco nodded thoughtfully, "Merlin, I never knew you had such womanly tendencies in you," he joked, "That'll teach Parkinson if she ever makes comment against your femininity again." He glanced at Hermione when he said this, and she couldn't help but feel like this was his way of reassuring her about the matter.

She smiled at him. He returned it and continued, "Is there anything more to this dress? I feel like something's still bothering you but you're too proud to admit it."

Hermione sighed. She knew that Draco would be able to see right through her.

"There was this hair barrette – that's like a clip thing – and it was almost the same blue as my dress. I'm sure I can use a spell to make it a perfect match but I don't know what came over me, I just loved it straight away. It had these little flowers and crystals on it and it was just so beautiful."

"So what's the problem?" He couldn't help but smile when he saw how wistful Hermione's expression had become.

Hermione grinned and prodded Draco's arm, "You just used your last question, Mister."

"Damn!"

"Don't you dare make any of your pompous comments but there was a slight issue with the price. It was over 9 Galleons and the dress was one of the most expensive in the shop as it was so I just couldn't afford it."

She eyed Draco's face for any sign of an eye-roll or disgusted grimace, but none came. She wouldn't deny that he didn't seem a little amused about it but at least he refrained from saying anything – about the money at least.

"Hey as long as you tame your frizz I'll be a happy man," he drawled.

Hermione rolled her eyes and decided to change the subject. The more they spoke about the Yule Ball, the more her mind kept conjuring up images of her and Draco kissing on the dance floor.

"So how did you do on that Charms test?"

"Oh I passed that – easy," Draco said.

Hermione beamed, "Yay! Well done."

Her smile faltered when she noticed that Draco was eyeing her suspiciously.

"Don't even bother pretending you're happy for me; we both know you're just full of yourself because I succeeded under your tutelage."

"Hey that's not fair."

"It's true though, right?"

"To an extent. I am proud of myself for teaching you the proper way to do some spells but it was down to you on the day, so of course I'm happy for you."

Draco's eyebrows shot up, "this must be a first: you're actually happy that I got full marks instead of throwing a strop because you have to share the credit."

"Y-you got full marks too?" Hermione's shoulders slumped.

"I did," Draco smirked, "thanks for helping me," he knew he'd have to say this since Hermione seemed to be sulking a bit, "but of course the marks came down to my exquisite skill more than anything else."

"You're welcome," Hermione perked up a bit.

"So, this dress business aside, are you looking forward to this dance?" Draco asked.

Hermione pulled a face, "well my date's a bit of an arse-hole but other than that-"

Draco glowered at her across the table.

"I'm kidding!" Hermione laughed. As Draco's face relaxed a little more, she winked, making him unsure if she really was kidding or not. She was seriously picking up way too many of his tendencies.

"The atmosphere, dressing up, the experience – yes I'm looking forward to that, but I'm not particularly enjoying the prospect of actually dancing."

"What?" Draco snapped. He couldn't believe his ears.

"I…" Hermione took a deep breath, "can't…dance. There, I admit it."

"Please tell me you're joking," Draco said.

"You clearly don't know me well enough to be going to the Ball with me if you think I'd joke about not being able to do something," Hermione said dryly.

"Good point. Bloody shit, Hermione, we can't have that."

"Is this you just being a proud snob – you think I'll embarrass you?"

"Yes."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but she did understand why this would be a big deal for him. It would be the equivalent of Hermione trying to out-do or at least match Harry's flying abilities, and through that analogy she realised that dancing with someone like Draco, who had probably been taught at an early age, would be embarrassing for her as well.

"It's not that I haven't tried. We've been having weekly lessons with McGonagall. I haven't been stepping on my partner's toes nearly as much as I did to start with, but I'm still not the most graceful and fluid of dancers."

"I'll teach you."

"Come again?"

"You heard me," Draco said, "think of it as repayment for your Charms tuition. What do you say?"

Hermione was shocked, "but where would we-? _When_ would we-?" With the Ball being only days away, she couldn't imagine how they'd ever get any practice in somewhere where gossiping students wouldn't be watching their every move, not to mention Rita Skeeter.

"Here. Now," Draco answered, "that's an extra question to me by the way," he grinned.

"But-"

"But what?" Right now Draco's priority was to save them both the impending embarrassment by getting this witch as much practice as she could get. Yes- weirdly enough he was considering her side of it too.

"The elves-"

"-Will pick up the fourteen-odd students that are in here besides us first. We have ten minutes, at least, depending on how many students are still in the village and how many elves are able to leave the kitchens."

"I'm not doing it in here where people can see us."

"Obviously," Draco muttered, "there's a hidden door in between the ones for the toilets that leads down to a basement."

"We need music-"

"Salazar give me strength, what's with all of these excuses? I'm offering you a service here. This is most likely the nicest thing I'll ever do for you so take it or leave it."

Hermione didn't answer. The truth was that she felt a bit emasculated at the idea of being taught how to do something by someone who wasn't a Professor. Draco did have a point though – he was offering to help her, so Hermione told herself it was only fair that she swallow her pride too.

She nodded. Draco gave her a small smile and shot off to the bar without providing reason. Hermione was left twiddling her thumbs for a minute or two until Draco returned - a Walkman in hand.

"Okay you're going to have to be in charge of this thing. I don't have a bloody clue what any of those symbols mean or how you work it," Draco thrust the device into Hermione's hands and dragged her up from her seat and towards the toilets when Professor Vector wasn't looking.

"Draco, where did you get this?" Hermione asked.

"Madam Rosmerta is a muggleborn so I figured she's have something like that."

"Oh let me guess, you found that out whilst trying to chat her up one day."

"Aw Hermione, you know me so well," Draco smirked.

He checked to see if any students were around and tapped the wall in between the bathroom doors with his wand. A wooden door materialised and Draco pushed it open, leading Hermione down a small flight of stairs to a square room that was about half the size of a Hogwarts classroom. Cases of alcohol and chairs were stacked against the back wall, and the rest of the room was bare with the exception of torches and occasional spider webs. It wasn't particularly warm or welcoming, but that wasn't really much of a surprise for a basement.

"I don't even care if you get two questions in a row now, how did you know this room existed?"

"Luck," Draco answered, "I can't even remember how I found it. All I know is that Parkinson used to drag me in here to sn-"

"Okay, okay. I don't need to hear details," Hermione covered her ears, "la la la la la la la la."

"You really are a strange one," Draco said as he prized Hermione's hands away, "now get to work on that walkie-talkie."

"Draco, this is a Walkman. A walkie-talkie is-"

Draco glared at her and Hermione stopped, "Right, not the time for a lecture. Got it."

She examined the tape inside the Walkman.

_To Iris, love John – 1998 _it read on the front.

1998? Hermione was intrigued – that was four years from now.

"Who the hell are Iris and John?" Draco asked as he read over her shoulder.

"Well I'm assuming this Iris is Madam Rosmerta: this _is _her Walkman after all and I've never heard her being addressed by any first name before."

Hermione squinted. There was some smaller writing underneath the message.

"Engorgio," she pointed her wand at the Walkman so she could read what it said.

_To Iris, love John – 1998._

_I couldn't wait for you to hear this song for so many years, so I snagged a Time Turner and decided to bring the song to you. Just don't let anyone else hear it until '98 when it will 'officially' be released, or else me and the Dolls will be done for plagiarism. (It is named after you too; just a heads up so try not to get too embarrassed when it's released.)_

Hermione gasped. How could someone be so irresponsible as to mess with a Time Turner in such a way?

"Okay so Iris, John and now 'the Dolls'. I'm lost," Draco said, "I'm assuming this John already knows Iris in this present time as a younger version of himself, otherwise there's some creepy-stalker shit going on here."

"Agreed," Hermione said. She shrunk the Walkman back down to size.

"I'm not going to be impressed if after all that, this turns out to be a heavy Weird Sisters kind of song," Draco shrugged off his 'winter' robes, "I can't dance in such restrictive garments," he added when he saw Hermione's questioning expression. She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Judging by that little note, I think we're safe from that – it should be good for dancing to."

Draco nodded and pulled Hermione to the centre of the room. She looked up expectantly at him.

"We can't dance while you're holding that thing."

"Right. Er, Wingardium Leviosa," Hermione levitated the Walkman, "we'll just have to try not to walk into it."

"Fine," Draco said. He gingerly reached out and put one hand on Hermione's waist. It felt very awkward. He was grateful that he was getting this over with now instead of the first time having to be during the Ball, in front of everyone, "just put your hand on my shoulder so we're ready. Then hit whatever button you need to make the music start with your free hand then we can just go whenever since we won't know how long it takes to kick in," he instructed.

"But I don't know what I'm doing," Hermione said. She was suddenly very aware that Draco's hand was on her waist, and that her cheeks were undoubtedly tinted pink, if not bright red. The heat from his hand felt like it was burning through her clothes onto her skin, which wasn't helping Hermione ignore it.

"You learn by doing, Hermione," Draco replied, "I'm leading so your job is to follow and try not to stand on my feet."

"Easier said than done."

"Who have you been partnering in these classes?"

"Neville."

"Figures."

Hermione hit Draco in the shoulder before she rested her hand on it. He cleared his throat.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, realising that they hadn't been in such close proximity since they were in the broom cupboard.

Hermione quickly snapped the play button down on the floating Walkman and clasped her free hand with Draco's. They stood there like that, waiting for the song to start. Hermione didn't know where to look. She settled on her feet.

A mandolin instrumental began playing and Draco tilted Hermione's chin up so her eyes met his.

"Lesson number one: _never _look at your feet," Draco said softly with his finger still under her chin.

Hermione was lost for words. Her heart was pounding in her throat as well as her ribcage, so she wouldn't have been able to speak even if she knew what to say.

Draco clasped her hand again and maintained eye contact, "Keep your eyes on me, relax, and just follow my lead – no doing your own thing pretending you're the boss like I know you'd want to. I'm in charge for the next three minutes or so."

Hermione mumbled something incoherent. When she imagined being taught how to dance by Draco, she had anticipated being talked at in a snappish, impatient manner. This was completely unexpected, but there was no time for her to think much more about it as the introduction ended, and the melody began.

_And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'cause I know how you feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I've ever been and I don't want to go home right now…_

Hermione instantly recognised the singer's voice. This was one of her mother's favourite bands, The Goo Goo Dolls. They were an American group whose lead singer was called John Rzeznik, and apparently they were wizards. Well, who would have thought it?

"Don't look now Hermione, but you're dancing," Draco said. Hermione's head cleared and she realised that her discovery had distracted her from overthinking the idea of dancing.

_And all I can taste is this moment…_

Hermione accidentally trod on Draco's toe. He winced and cursed under his breath but he didn't miss a beat.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said.

"Shh, don't think. You're a much better dancer when you don't think. Just feel the music and just go with it."

Hermione took a deep breath. She kept her eyes on Draco's, hoping that she'd get sucked into them so she couldn't think about the dance. She decided to distract her mind by focusing on the lyrics and tempo of the song.

_When sooner or later it's over. I just don't want to miss you tonight..._

Draco suddenly picked up the pace as the music rose – apparently this song was a power ballad. He started spinning Hermione in perfect unison to the music; it really was hard to believe he'd never heard this song before.

_And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am…_

"Not my usual style but I'll go with it," Draco commented as the second verse began.

"What _is_ your usual style?" asked Hermione. She was already out of breath.

"You know, classical, instrumental stuff. Music one would waltz to," he said as he and Hermione glided across the floor.

"How is it you're so good at this then?"

"I'm feeling the music," he smirked, though this time it was oddly charming instead of smug and pompous.

Hermione was glad for the distraction of conversation. It took her mind off the fact that they were sharing such an intimate moment, and the fact that Draco was still holding her waist. Not to mention the fact that the lyrics seemed so appropriate for what was happening: they were being so genuine with one another, but they were hidden away where no one else could see them.

_Or the moment of truth in your lies…_

Draco's stomach dropped when that line played out. If he could jump into that little box and hex the damn singer into oblivion he would, but he didn't want to stop. Not yet, at least. That was an apt lyric if there ever was one. His lie had been all of those olive branches to the witch he was now dancing with… the rest was pretty self-explanatory.

_And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand…_

The music rose again, and Draco instinctually sped up to match it. Hermione followed with ease. She was a better dancer than she gave herself credit for, and Draco could only blame Longbottom for that. Merlin help Weaslette at the Ball.

The chorus was followed by a long guitar, mandolin, drum, and violin instrumental. It was powerful and rising in tempo, but soft at the same time so Draco felt comfortable with the ballroom-esque style that he was leading Hermione in.

Throughout this instrumental, the two of them danced. Both of them were lost in their own thoughts but still had locked gazes. Whether either of them were aware of this was a different matter, but it was what it was.

The chorus repeated two more times, before the song slowed one more, as it had been at the start.

_I just want you to know who I am… I just want you to know who I am…_

The instruments faded, leaving the singer to deliver the last line over the fading chord of a guitar. Without even realising, Draco and Hermione had ended up not really dancing anymore- well not travelling at least. At some unknown point Hermione's other hand had climbed up to Draco's other shoulder, and both of Draco's hands were wrapped Hermione's waist. As the last note faded they slowed their swaying and walking in circles, and pulled their heads back at the same time, only just realising that Hermione's head had been resting against Draco's chest and Draco's had been buried in her hair against the side of her head.

Both of them were breathing heavily as their eyes met. Neither of them spoke, and neither of them made an attempt to let the other go. It was as if they were both cherishing this moment, knowing that as soon as they stepped out of the basement their barriers would be raised again due to the constant prying eyes of their friends, peers and teachers. They would return to being… well whatever the hell they were before they came in here. Neither of them knew what it was, but they did know that it wasn't what they wanted to be. It wasn't _this._

"How was it?" Hermione said, her breathing still quite fast.

"What?"

"My dancing."

"Oh shit, right, er-"

"I did well at the 'feeling the music' crap you spewed to me, huh?"

"You shush, little one," Draco smiled.

Hermione wagged her finger at him, "Don't you start on that me being small stuff again."

"Okay, okay," Draco pulled Hermione in slightly closer. It was his brainless attempt at making her stop wagging her finger.

"You were great, Mione. For a beginner at least," he smirked again.

Hermione took a deep breath as she tried to calm down her heart rate, breathing in Draco's vanilla scent as she did so, which didn't help.

"W-what did you just call me?"

Draco's brain took that moment to engage, and his whole body tensed.

"I, er-" he began, not feeling sure about what her reaction was going to be. He tried to find some words, any words, but his thoughts left his mind again when he saw Hermione's brown eyes looking up at him. She didn't look pissed, so that was one thing in his favour at least.

She looked so innocent and curious, and some paranoid part of Draco thought that the longer her eyes bored into his own like this, she would uncover the truth, and the lies he had told that had lead them to this point. He wondered how he could have ever hurt her before, or why she would even trust him so much as to agree to give him a second chance after everything he'd done. He didn't know whether she was insane or just too nice for her own good.

"I-" he tried again, but his words were lost the longer he looked into her eyes. He could see his reflection in them, along with the hidden secrets held within his own eyes.

"Draco-" Hermione began. She wanted to ask why he was looking at her like that. Was he okay? He blinked a couple of times when he heard her voice, but his eyes glazed over again.

He gulped. He bit his lip as though contemplating something. He exhaled slowly. He closed his eyes. He bent his head. He leant into her. Hermione found herself leaning in as well. Her heart was pounding. Butterflies were fluttering in her stomach. Her gaze flicked to his mouth. She closed her eyes. She stood on her tiptoes. Their lips were centimetres apart.

The sound of chairs scraping overhead made Hermione realise what was happening and whom it was happening with. She panicked and gently pushed Draco away by the shoulders. He had also jolted slightly at the noise and blinked several times when some distance was put between them, as if the same realisation had just hit him. His eyes managed to focus this time.

"I'm sorry Draco. I just um… I er… well…"

"What?" Draco's voice was apathetic; he didn't sound angry, nor did he sound understanding. Hermione supposed he wouldn't be the type who'd be used to getting rejected like that.

"I've never kissed anyone before."

Draco's expression showed no signs of shock, and Hermione expected as much.

"I just panicked. I mean it's you and me, and I just have a feeling that if I kissed you things are just going to get weird between us, and I don't want that. I like that we can be friendly to one another, and I don't want to lose that." Hermione decided to leave out the fact that she thought it was already weird between them to a degree. She didn't want to put her foot in it if Draco though everything was perfectly normal.

"I kind of figured by the way you told that elf about what's happened."

"Oh, you heard about that?"

"Damn right I did," Draco finally cracked under the torrent of emotions he was feeling – frustration being at the forefront, "I can't believe you'd go around singing my praises like that. I don't deserve it and everybody – even the bloody servants – know that."

Hermione bit back her need to defend the house-elves, but now wasn't the time so she begrudgingly let it slide.

"Draco, stop punishing yourself, will you? I've forgiven you. It's fine." She dug her fingernails into Draco's shoulders so he couldn't run away like she knew he'd want to.

"Except it's not fine, is it?" Draco snapped, "I wish you'd just stop sticking your meddling nose into everything! It's your own bloody fault I feel bad about this. You've painted a picture of me that I can never live up to."

"Since when do you care what I think of you?"

"Since it made me feel about this big," Draco held up his index finger and thumb of his right hand a few centimetres apart from one another.

Hermione's eyes blazed, "Is your bloody ego really the thing that's worrying you the most right now? Because if it is then I'm happy I stopped you from kissing me." Hermione bit her lip. It made the whole thing seem more impossible when she said the words out loud. If anyone walked in right now they would laugh in her face if they heard her say that Draco Malfoy almost kissed her. _So much for establishing boundaries until we discussed this, _she thought.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Draco said through gritted teeth. He made no attempt to shake Hermione's hands away.

"It means," Hermione sighed and released him. A chill inadvertently ran down Draco's spine in the absence of her touch, and not a good one.

"It means that you're clearly the same boy you were last week, and maybe you're right and I _was _wrong for thinking you could grow up," she blurted in the heat of the moment. She instantly regretted saying that. Draco had already put his reputation on the line a number of times for her, and there had to be a limit somewhere.

The fight drained from Draco. Hermione had just provided a way out for him, an escape-route to get away from the high expectations he had just spoken of. A weight was lifted from him, releasing him from the pressure of having to prove himself… so why didn't he feel any happier?

"I'm not. Not entirely, at least," he said firmly, "the same person wouldn't have tried to kiss you in the first place."

"I know. It wasn't fair of me to say you're the same person, because you _have _changed. That's why I said that stuff to Dobby. I'm sorry if you feel pressured by it, but nobody else knows I've said it. I refuse to feel guilty for voicing my opinion."

"Except you don't know that, do you? It obviously never crossed your mind that house-elves could gossip just as easily as humans. One overheard word from a teacher could spread through the staff and then to the students like Dragonpox."

"Since when do you have a problem with people talking about you?"

"Since it's all lies!" Draco roared. He was breathing heavily and his raised voice scared Hermione slightly. His eyes looked so conflicted and fearful. Something was clearly going on, but Hermione felt that she'd be invading his privacy if she asked about it. This impression told her one thing: they barely knew each other at all.

Hermione rubbed her temples, "I don't think I can do this, Draco."

"What?" Draco's stomach dropped.

"I can't go through with it," Hermione was thinking more about her deal with Ginny more than the Ball itself, "I'm sorry. Maybe you really don't know me well enough to be going to the Ball with me after all, and I don't know you either."

She turned to leave the basement but paused to look back over her shoulder, "after all, if you did know me, you'd know that my instincts of people are almost always spot-on. I don't know why you're so affected by what I said to Dobby, and frankly I don't think you're likely to want to tell me anytime soon. I know that we're just going to be driven further apart if we don't discuss that kiss– what it means, and Merlin knows how stubborn we are so that isn't going to happen anytime soon."

She turned again but Draco called after her.

"Oh sure, run away like a coward." Honestly what was the logic? She just pretty much said that the sooner they talk, the better, so why else would she leave now?

Hermione faced him again. "You're the coward here, not me. I'm not the one freaking out about _positive _gossip because I feel the need to hide behind my own damn fake personality. I'm the only one who's seen the real you, Draco, and frankly I don't know why you're fighting so hard to make sure no-one else gets the chance to see or even consider the idea of it. I know the Draco I'd rather be friends with and it certainly isn't the bigoted snake you parade yourself around as when we're not alone."

Draco's jaw clenched. Hermione was right. She had called him out on something he didn't even know he'd been doing.

She seemed to relax after getting that off her chest, and she looked into his eyes, "I'm doing this for us. I'm giving you some space to figure out whatever problem you still have. If I pressured you to tell me it would only drive a wedge between us, and I don't want us to go back to hating each other. I like what we are, but I realise that we can't move forward if we barely know one another, and I class the Ball as a step forward."

"What are we though, Hermione? Why do you care so much?" These were the questions Draco had been dying to know the answers to for the past few days. He could only hope that Hermione had the answers.

"Because I li-" Hermione stopped herself from blurting the rest of the sentence, and chickened out, "because I know you've changed." She reiterated.

Draco's heart skipped a beat. Had she been about to say what he thought she was? His next planned move was to press her on it but she had already scurried away up the staircase.

"I feel pressured by what you said because I don't bloody deserve you!" He shouted helplessly after her. A moment later he heard the distant _crack _of apparition. She was gone.

Had she heard him? Draco had no idea. It was probably for the best if she hadn't – that would just open a can of worms he didn't want to be opened yet. At least he now knew where he stood with her after so much wondering.

Draco took several paces backwards until his back hit the cold wall. He leant against it and slumped to the floor. Maybe it was a good thing that Hermione had pushed him away. She had already uncovered his subconscious lie of his arrogant persona, so it was only a matter of time before she found out about the lies linked to the bet. The repercussions on their bond could only get worse the more time they spent together other and more they became emotionally attached, so some space could be beneficial.

A kiss could only signify that their friendship was something more, and it would all be based on lies. It didn't matter that the lies actually held a ring of truth once Draco had told them. It didn't matter that the dance lesson and the almost-kiss had been done under Draco's uninfluenced choices. The lies were the catalysts that lead them to this point. That's all Hermione would need to know.

Their friendship really was doomed before anything even started. Draco would give anything to forfeit the bet and establish a bond with Hermione on a clean slate, but that would only mean he'd have to declare his feelings for her as his penalty – more lies. There was the option of pulling out altogether, but that would trigger the punishment of the binding spell, and the mystery of it was too risky.

Draco only had one option. It was inevitable that his little bubble with Hermione would be burst for good at some point – he may as well make the most of it while it lasted. He needed to go to the Ball with her… he_ wanted _to go to the Ball with her...

Back at the castle, Hermione had one thought playing over and over again in her mind. She had hoped that her points made to the Slytherin would be enough to make the words sink into her own head, but there was still a niggling bit of doubt in the back of her mind.

_It's purely physical, nothing more! Purely physical… _

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N: **and breathe... I wrote that in one sitting haha! I wasn't planning on it being so long but I ran into that little issue of the song being released in 1998 (sigh) so I had to write my way around that little hurdle. I was determined to use that song though because I think the lyrics are just so fitting for them (It was Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls if you didn't already figure that out ;D)

Also, over 100 follows and 50 favourites, thanks for the love so far!


	15. 23rd December

**A/N:** Wow, I got some awesome reviews for my last chapter, thank you all so much. I'm touched. :') And I've reached the 100 review mark! YAY! Virtual high-fives and hugs to you all!

So for any of you interested to know, I've planned ahead and this story should have 6 or 7 more chapters after this one, that is, if I don't think of anything else to include… my goal is to reach the 100K mark, so there's plenty of story left to tell.

Probably not the angst-storm you were all expecting, but don't fret, that's coming next time in another long chapter ;)

* * *

**Two Steps Back**

**2 days until the Yule Ball**

"Morning," Hermione said as she swept into the Great Hall. She took a seat opposite Harry and Ron and grabbed a slice of toast. She didn't think much of it when the boys issued vague, incoherent grunts as their response to her, but she began to worry when she noticed Ron's untouched breakfast.

"Oh my gosh Ron, are you okay?"

"Mmm," he mumbled. He was looking at a piece of parchment with a great deal of concentration. Hermione watched him tilt it at an angle so Harry could see, and the two of them had a quiet discussion as Ron pointed at seemingly random points on the parchment. Her eyes darted between the two of them with suspicion and curiosity. Once Ron had risen from his seat, Hermione leapt at the chance to interrogate Harry.

"So, was that a letter or something?"

"Not exactly," he replied. He kept glancing over Hermione's shoulder to what she now realised was the Slytherin table. She settled for assuming that he was looking at Daphne; confirming it would mean looking over too, and she didn't really trust herself to do that. There was every chance Draco would be sitting there, and Hermione felt relieved to be sitting with her back to them. If she were sat on Harry's side of the table, she knew she'd keep stealing glances at Draco – just to gauge his mood above anything else. In hindsight it probably wasn't a wise move on her part to flee the basement without discussing everything there and then. He was never the most forthcoming person when it came to serious conversations; he even called her 'Mione' for Merlin's sake so he was bound to clam up the longer they avoided one another.

"So… are you going to tell me what it is?" Hermione prompted. Ron was now talking to Susan Bones at the Hufflepuff table. Her curiosity went up about ten notches as she saw this.

Harry looked torn, as if he wasn't quite sure if he should tell Hermione or not. Eventually he gave in, knowing that his friend wouldn't rest until she found out on her own if he withheld this from her.

"It was a list."

"Of?"

"Names."

"Whose names?"

"_Girls_ names."

With each piece of information he gave, Harry shrank down in his seat a little more. This sounded so much more idiotic saying it out loud. Hermione's expression changed from curiosity, to confusion, to shock, and finally to disapproval.

"Please tell me that isn't a list of potential Yule Ball dates for Ron?"

Harry winced.

"Harry Potter, answer me!"

"Fine! Okay yeah it is," he held his hands up defensively and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

"When on earth did this happen?"

"Saturday," Harry said.

"When I was in Hogsmeade? Honestly the things I miss just in the space of a few hours…" she shook her head.

"Come on, Mione, I'm sure you had a great time, until the storm of course."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she said a little too quickly. Harry's eyebrows twitched upwards and Hermione bit her lip in embarrassment, suddenly remembering that nobody knew about what had happened except Draco and herself.

"I – I mean, nothing really interesting happened. It was hardly worth going at all really. I got my dress but other than that…" she didn't finish her sentence. It would all be a pack of lies whatever she described the day as, and she didn't trust herself to not give the game away by her facial expressions. Draco had made her all too aware that her face was an open book, 'which incidentally is what her nose was buried in all the time' as a direct quote from him.

Harry seemed to suspect she was hiding something regardless of her incomplete explanation, but he didn't have time to question her as Ron slumped back over to the table and dropped down in his seat.

"No-go, mate?" Harry asked, giving Ron a kind-of 'bad luck' half smile.

"Taken… as were the other five. I told you this was a bloody waste of time this close to the Ball," he said in a loud whisper.

"I'm surprised you went along with this to begin with, Ronald," Hermione commented. Ron jumped, apparently having forgotten that she was there.

"Oh so you know now?" He shot Harry an irritated sideways look. Harry didn't say anything but shrugged with a sheepish expression on his face. "Look I was getting a bit worked up about it on Saturday and, well they talked me into it!"

"They?"

"Hey! Let's see who's left on the list!" Harry flapped the parchment in Ron's face in order to delay the inevitable conversation he would have with Hermione.

Ron idly jabbed at the parchment with his index finger, and Harry sighed, "really, Hannah Abbott, now? After you were _just _at the Hufflepuff table?"

"She's my first choice out of the ones that are left," Ron argued half-heartedly.

"Maybe it would have been wise to plan ahead. If you keep coming back then going over there it's going to look a bit obvious and tactless." said Harry.

"Yes because it _isn't_ obvious the way you and Ronald pore over that bloody list moments before he asks someone out," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I didn't see Mione notice yesterday when I was asking people all the way through lunch," Ron whispered to Harry, who chuckled. Seeing Hermione's expression, the boys' grins faded and Ron made a swift departure to the Hufflepuff table again.

"In my defence, my thoughts were elsewhere yesterday," Hermione commented. She always hated it when she overlooked something, "so come on, who helped you plan this? Was it the twins? Seamus? Dean?"

Harry's involuntary eye-flick to the Slytherin table was enough to provide an answer.

"Or Daphne?" Hermione smirked and Harry blushed, "I'm willing to bet that it was her idea."

"Yeah it was, actually," said Harry. He was now making a point of staring determinedly at his bowl of Cheeri-Owls, knowing he'd been caught out.

"How did this all come about?" It didn't escape Hermione's attention that this meant that Daphne, Harry and Ron had actually survived a solid amount of time in each other's company. Harry's distracted demeanour over the last couple of days wasn't lost on her either… there was more to this story than what met the eye, and Harry realised that Hermione knew there was.

"I'll tell you… so long as you tell me about your Saturday, too," his green eyes met hers.

Hermione froze and she cursed under her breath. His request was fair and friendly enough, but she couldn't shake this feeling that he knew she was hiding something too.

"Well thank bloody Merlin for that, eh?" Ron grinned triumphantly and immediately began devouring his stacked plate of food.

"She said yes?" Harry blinked in surprise and clapped Ron on the back.

"Mmhmm," Ron mumbled through a mouthful of bacon.

"Well that's great!" beamed Harry, "we've all got dates now."

He looked at Hermione as she inadvertently let out a small whimper, and she desperately tried not to look him in the eye. Ron, however, seemed oblivious to what was happening as he was still caught up in his joyous bubble.

"Thank Merlin!" Ron repeated, "That was way more stressful than it should have been."

"Agreed," said Harry and Hermione simultaneously.

* * *

Because it was the beginning of the holidays, the students dispersed from the Great Hall pretty quickly, all eager to relax in their respective common rooms. Some insane people (namely Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnston and the twins) even made a head start to go down to the Quidditch pitch despite the unpredictable weather conditions and freezing temperatures. They were apparently all suffering from withdrawal symptoms as the Tournament meant that there would be no Quidditch cup this year. Even Harry and Ron considered partaking in this when Fred and George invited them along, but Harry eventually declined after a good five minutes of deliberation, considering someone at Hogwarts wanted him dead…again, and he'd be a sitting Pygmy Puff out on a broomstick, as he had been in first year with Quirrell, and second year with the rogue Bludger, and then third year with the Dementors... Merlin why did he even _want_ to play Quidditch anymore? Hermione certainly didn't understand why.

Ron looked more than ready to accept the offer, but Hannah Abbott began waving him over at the next table.

"You reckon I should go over?" he whispered to Harry.

"Yes," said Harry bluntly. He looked deadly serious, and Hermione found it difficult to hold back her smile.

Ron sighed but otherwise showed no sign of reluctance, "er actually you lot go on, it looks a bit stormy out there…" he was gone in a flash.

"Your loss mate," Fred shouted after him. As soon as he saw why Ron was declining their offer, he nudged George and the two of them let out very loud wolf-whistles, which echoed off the walls of the room.

A ripple of laughter rang out and Ron whipped round – his face a beetroot red. He scowled at the twins and shot a rude gesture their way before turning his back on them again.

"I think that's our cue to leave," George chuckled. The other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team practically sprinted from the room after that, leaving Harry and Hermione sitting at the table.

"Honestly Harry, are us girls really that scary?" Hermione laughed.

"Yes," Harry said again, remembering his conversation with Daphne from Saturday. "Seriously what is it with you girls and needing to know every tiny detail when it comes to clothes?"

"Woah, we're not all like that, you know," Hermione held her hands up in defence, "but I hardly think you could ever escape the high-maintenance with a Slytherin girl."

Harry laughed half-heartedly and took a sip of his pumpkin juice; "yeah I suppose I put my foot in it there." He was looking over Hermione's shoulder again, but in a different place than the last few times, so she felt safe in following his gaze. She smiled when she saw Ron chatting animatedly to Hannah.

"Do you think he has a thing for her?" she asked.

"He tried to play it off cool but when this whole list thing came about but his face did seem to light up when we mentioned her name. Then again he'd asked five other girls before this morning, so who knows?"

"Okay then, enlighten me as to what I missed whilst Ginny and I were in Hogsmeade," Hermione said.

"Are you going to tell me about what happened to you, if I do?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Hermione answered as casually as she could. Whilst there was no proof that Harry suspected something, she decided she'd avoid telling the whole truth unless she was directly asked a leading question – she was still quite hopeless when it came to lying despite how much time she had spent with Draco lately. Then again, that could all change depending on what Harry told her.

Harry nodded a little reluctantly and shuffled further up the table so they wouldn't be overheard. The table wasn't even all that crowded in the spot they were in before so Hermione could only imagine that something big happened – potentially big enough to rival what had transpired in her day, though Hermione seriously doubted anything could come close. She slid along the opposite bench until she was facing Harry again.

"So, start off with this list," Hermione said.

Her friend nodded again and stared vacantly at a random spot on the table, presumably recalling the events as he spoke of them.

"Well I was already with Daphne anyway since she just gave me a lesson in the qualities of different materials used for dress robes and how to identify them," he held back an eye roll, "and…"

* * *

Across the room, it hadn't escaped Draco's notice that Hermione and Potter were having a conversation at the Gryffin-dork table. Not that there was anything unusual about that but the way they isolated themselves and the way Hermione's bushy head was bent forwards slightly gave the impression that they clearly didn't want to be overheard.

This was enough to make alarm bells ring in Draco's head and his paranoia levels shoot up – a rather unfortunate family trait he had inherited. The whole pride thing really did come at an inconvenient and large cost of suspecting anyone and everyone… it was no wonder that Slytherins were famed for being independent and aloof. Whether Draco wanted to feel this way or not, the fact was that he was scared that Hermione was telling Potter what had happened. Whilst he had warmed to Hermione considerably over the last couple of weeks there was no way in hell he would trust Scar-head to keep his mouth shut.

Even Draco hadn't had chance to properly filter what had happened and how he felt at the time, so he was hardly ready for anyone else to know. If anything, avoiding Hermione at every chance he could get over the last day or so had seemed to erase his emotions from that moment altogether. Just an hour ago when he woke up, he recalled feeling immensely guilty, hurt and sad when she broke off the arrangement to go to the Ball with him, and after just one day of distance and plain banishing her from his thoughts, he had no idea how he could feel those things. He wasn't going to deny that the emotions wormed their way back into his system occasionally, but definitely not in the same intense and overwhelming way they had on Saturday.

Maybe he had just imagined the whole thing, or maybe he was just in denial… Draco shook the thoughts away, refusing to let this get the better of him in a public area. He tried to focus on other things. He heard heavy breathing from somewhere nearby, and he glanced across to where Daphne was sitting. She too, was staring wide-eyed at the Gryffindor table, and was clutching her fork so hard her already pale knuckles were turning white.

Draco smirked. It's not that he enjoyed seeing her in such a worked up state, but he did prefer it to the smug-Daphne she had been yesterday. He had perhaps made it far too obvious that Hermione had changed her mind.

Sensing his eyes on her, Daphne's head turned slowly to face him. She took in his uneasy demeanour that would undoubtedly match her own, should she have a mirror with her. She began to wonder why _he _looked so panicked. She sure as hell knew her own reasons, and that made her very suspicious about what exactly had happened to make Granger suddenly reject him. She figured he had called her a Mudblood or something up until this point.

She arched an eyebrow at Draco, who did the same back to her. They sat like this for a while, silently trying to get answers about what happened with the other by looking for hidden clues in body language and facial expressions. This was a pointless act, as neither was fully capable at Legilimency, but it didn't stop them from trying.

Daphne eventually broke out in a light sweat from the determination not to let her poker face crack, so she looked away and got up. To keep up appearances she whispered in Draco's ear as she passed him.

"Whatever happened on Saturday, it looks like it made you lose the bet, Malfoy."

"Please, I still have two days to change her mind back again." Draco grabbed Daphne's wrist and whispered back.

"Just give up Draco, it would be so much less painful for all of us," she sighed and prodded her glasses back into place as they had started to slide down her nose.

"I _will _be taking her to that Ball."

"You really want to win a stupid bet that badly?"

The stubborn gleam in Draco's eyes faltered slightly, and he hesitated before attempting to respond. Daphne smirked and cut across him, "that is, if you're even concerned about the bet anymore…"

"No… I mean yes… I… oh piss off, Greengrass," Draco spat. Daphne simply laughed.

"That's what I thought," she said, and with that she walked out of the Hall.

Draco's head was once again barraged with emotions. One simple implication about Hermione and his feelings from that day came flooding back to him. He mentally kicked himself for even thinking avoiding her would make them go away. They made him forget, yes, but there was really no way of avoiding it altogether.

However pointless it seemed, and however easily Draco could predict the outcome, one stubborn part of his mind told him there was one way of getting to the bottom of his feelings for Hermione. He knew for a fact it wasn't a case of being in denial, because he definitely accepted it on Saturday, but Hermione's words _had _got him questioning how legitimate it was… they really hardly knew each other.

* * *

"Bertie Botts jelly bean roulette? Are you serious?" Hermione laughed.

Harry laughed too, "Well I just really wanted Ron to get a date. I feel bad enough for him as it is with those marvellous dress robes of his. Besides there's food involved so Ron didn't really object to anything."

"So why did Daphne want to take part in this?"

"Because she got to come up with the rules. She asked me why Ron was moping around so much so she was pretty much involved straight away."

"Yeah I didn't think 'Ron gets a bad flavour, Daphne get to pick a name, Ron gets a good flavour, you gets to pick a name for the list' was quite your style. I can only imagine some of the names Daphne would have put forward," Hermione laughed again, "I would have thought Ron would get some kind of say in this though."

"After the Fleur incident I think we would have been there all day trying to even get a name onto the list. He would have made up tonnes of excuses not to ask anyone we thought of. It's not like he had to ask out everyone we said… we were just getting options out there.

"Fair enough," Hermione nodded, "so is there anything else you want to tell me? I can't imagine why you'd be so secretive about that story."

Harry fidgeted in his seat, "right well, I wasn't sure whether I should tell anyone what happened because looking at how things turned out it seems pretty pointless. But I kind of need to get this off my chest… it's been playing on my mind since Saturday and I know you're really the only person who wont judge me for it, since you're going to the Ball with Malfoy and all."

Hermione tried not to react when Harry said this, but he seemed too focused on his story that he didn't notice her fail miserably. "Well, Ron had left to try and find someone from the list and Pansy came over and started giving Daphne the third degree about sitting with me… has Malfoy said anything about what's going on?

Hermione shook her head. "I've seen how tense it is between them, and I think Draco and Daphne have had some kind of disagreement too but I don't know why."

"Oh okay. But yeah anyway after Pansy left to go to Hogsmeade, Daphne actually started to cry."

"Are you serious? The Ice Queen started to melt?"

"Well she didn't properly cry; more like shed a tear or two. When she saw that I noticed she made up some story about having watery eyes from a cold she caught."

"Figures," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but that's when it started getting weird. Not a bad weird. Just…weird. D'ya know what I mean?"

Hermione nodded and Harry half-smiled. Both of them dreaded to think how they'd be coping right now if they didn't have the other to confide in.

"So I asked her what was wrong, and she didn't try to lie to cover up the fact she was upset. She said she…" Harry's voice trailed off.

"What?"

He sighed, "She said she envied me." Hermione's jaw dropped and Harry laughed, "It's true. See what I mean by weird? I told her she didn't want to be in my position. Yeah I get a lot of press but there's just that minor drawback of almost getting murdered every year."

"What did she say to that?"

"She said she envies my friends, not my fame. Don't get me wrong, she's not especially fond of you or Ron but I guess it was more the idea of how close the three of us are, like we can tell each other stuff and trust each other. Apparently it's like hell in the Slytherin common room lately, because of whatever's happened with her, Malfoy and Pansy. She says it's pretty lonely in there, and that almost everyone is always out for themselves and only themselves. She asked me if you or Ron would hold it against me if I ever hurt your feelings, whether I meant to or not. Of course I answered 'no', but the expression on her face said it all really."

"Oh my gosh!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I know right, who knew the Slytherins had the capacity to have real emotions?"

"I guess they just keep them hidden behind their obnoxious facades. What with You-Know-Who being a Slytherin they're probably brought up to never show signs of weakness," Hermione gasped quietly. Guilt welled up in the pit of her stomach when she realised that this must be what Draco had been doing all along, and she had called him out on it on Saturday when it was pretty obvious something big was bothering him. No wonder he was acting so distant.

"Maybe," Harry said, "okay Mione don't judge me…"

"There's more?"

Harry nodded.

"Okay, yeah of course I won't judge you." It would be bloody hypocritical of her to do such a thing.

"Well I walked out into the grounds with her so she could clear her head a bit. I kind of got the impression she was just getting more worked up from panicking that other people would see she was upset. She really relaxed quite a lot as soon as no one could see us, and she suddenly grabbed my hand. I didn't pull away because clearly she just needed a friend right then, even if it was me."

As Harry talked, Hermione kept picking out similarities between his story and what had happened with Draco. She relaxed, feeling comforted that Daphne was acting like Draco did.

"Then she kind of leaned into my side and put her head on my shoulder as we walked. I didn't pull away from this either because I just thought she was cold from the snow and the wind."

Hermione couldn't help but smile, _Oh Harry, so naïve._

"Then what happened?"

Harry met Hermione's eyes and conceded that he couldn't stall anymore, "Then I," he cleared his throat, "I kissed her."

Hermione's hands shot up to cover her mouth in surprise.

"Did she…?"

Harry nodded once, and Hermione gasped. "Yeah she kissed me back; not for long though," he said. "I still can't really bloody remember what I was thinking at the time, nor can I imagine why she didn't push me away sooner or hex me. We started avoiding each other after that, but I ended up bumping into her again not long before you came back from Hogsmeade. She asked me not to tell anyone, and if I did I was to make sure they didn't tell anyone else," he looked at Hermione expectantly.

"Oh yes, of course I won't," she said.

"Thanks. So after that we talked about it and we decided that it'd be best to just remain civil after the Ball is over and done with. Personally I think it'd be awkward between us if we pretend it never happened, but she said she couldn't risk her House giving her more grief right now."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully and Harry frowned, "I must say Mione, you are taking this much better than I thought you would."

"Well as far as Slytherins go, Daphne would definitely be my preferred choice if you were ever to go out with any of them. She never has been much of a pain over the years. Erm, Harry could I just ask you one thing before I tell you what happened in Hogsmeade?"

"Go ahead."

"Well, why did you kiss her? I know she was upset but really you barely know her, even less than Draco and I know each other. I'm not saying you shouldn't have done it but I'm just curious."

Harry saw in Hermione's eyes that she had much more reason to be asking him this than simply being curious. He decided not to push it: he would probably have his answer soon enough.

"It sounds stupid and like I'm avoiding the question but I honestly don't know. It wasn't just impulse, because I kind of hesitated for a second before I did it. I can't explain it but something in my gut was just telling me it was the right thing to do. I know we don't know anything about each other, but maybe these things just aren't supposed to make sense." With this last comment, the twins' revelation about Molly having a crush on Snape was at the forefront of his mind.

"Yes that does seem to make sense of that in a nonsensical kind of way," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "so it's your turn now." He propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hand.

There was a bustle at the entrance to the Great Hall when a couple of hundred students entered: some had come down for a late breakfast after having a lie-in, some had been watching other students on the Quidditch pitch and had returned to warm up, some were members of the Astronomy club and so were also getting a late breakfast, and others were just friends of people within these categories. Suffice it to say, the Gryffindor table became crowded very quickly, so Harry and Hermione decided to leave and make their way up to the common room. They agreed to take a detoured route to give them more time to talk since the tower would probably be equally crowded.

As soon as they were in the Entrance Hall, their pace slowed and Hermione began her account of Saturday.

* * *

Pansy's heart fluttered in her chest as she eagerly returned the kiss of the boy in front of her. She found herself slightly disappointed after a while. Had she just built her expectations too high after so long or was he being weirdly hesitant and unsure today? Pansy didn't care to think about that right now or ask him about it. She was just revelling in this moment of triumph. She knew deep down that Draco could never have feelings for Granger, and the fact that he was kissing her right now was all the proof she needed. Daphne and her stupid bet could go to hell for all she cared. All that mattered was that Draco was with her now, like he should be. This just made sense; they were both Slytherin, Pureblood and on each other's parents' lists for potential future spouses. What in the name of Salazar made sense about him and Granger? Nothing.

She and Draco were stood in an alcove in a deserted corridor on the fourth floor. The silence made Pansy quickly aware of the sound of faint footsteps. She opened her eyes, wondering if Draco had noticed too. She frowned upon seeing that he already had his eyes open, and was gazing blankly out of the window they were stood next to, as if in deep thought. Pansy was pissed off to no end about his lack of interest, despite being the one to initiate the kiss, but she decided to keep her mouth shut for now, not wanting it to end just yet.

A few seconds later, Pansy could hear voices. She was determined to keep this kiss going as long as possible so she paid whoever was approaching no mind. Draco must still be lost in his thoughts too, as it didn't quite register until he realised who one of the voices belonged to.

"…so it happened so suddenly that I just kind of panicked. I said some stuff, he said some stuff and so I just broke it off. But I feel like that was a bit hasty after what you were saying about Daphne about how maybe it doesn't matter that you two don't really know each- oh Godric!"

Hermione stopped in her tracks, as did Harry. By this point Draco had frozen. He had broken away from Pansy, but evidently not quickly enough. If he didn't need any confirmation about how legitimate his feelings from Saturday had been for Hermione already, he definitely knew for sure now. It didn't feel quite right kissing Pansy right off the bat but the fact that he instinctively pulled away and felt guilty when he heard Hermione made it blatantly obvious to him. She'd broken the Yule Ball arrangement off with him, and yet _he_ felt guilty. Draco had never felt guilty about anything like this before. Even when he had actually been technically dating someone and been caught kissing someone else by them, he didn't feel like this.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit! _His mind was saying over and over.

"Hermione, I was just, er-"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Draco," Hermione said. Her voice was steady and apathetic enough to sound like she couldn't care less, but as always, her face told a different story. Her big brown eyes were glossy; her frown and crinkled nose gave away the fact that she was fighting back tears. Be they from anger or hurt, it made no difference to Draco. He just wished he had a time turner to erase the last five minutes or so. He wished he could wipe the tears away from her face and tell her his idiotic reasons for kissing Pansy. But his feet seemed cemented to the floor and his windpipes constricted, preventing him from doing something quick enough.

"Come on, let's go," Harry pulled Hermione away by the arm, making sure to stare daggers at Draco as he did so. Hermione looked back at Draco until he was out of sight. Only then did she let a tear fall down her cheek. She willed herself not to get upset. She had no right to be; they were no longer going to the Ball together so who was she to make a big deal out of this? It was only Malfoy…

Draco let out a long breath as the footsteps faded away. He slumped against the wall and rubbed his hands down his face. Pansy was just staring at him in bewilderment.

"What the bloody hell was that?!"

"Do you really want me to answer that question?" Draco snapped in exasperation, finally able to speak.

Pansy said nothing, instead opting to slap him hard across the face.

"_That _is for leading me on and choosing that foul Mudblood over me," she hissed. She flounced away feeling more empowered than she had in a long time. She could now see what Daphne had been talking about when this whole bet thing started in the first place. Maybe if she hadn't been so blind to the truth behind her words then this whole business with Granger would never have happened.

Draco sighed and brought his hand up to touch his cheek where Pansy had slapped him. Whilst he wanted to be angry with her he just couldn't bring himself to be. He knew this idea would be a waste of time, but he had to be sure. It didn't help that all that slap had done was remind him of Hermione.

If he hadn't already lost the bet before he was confident that he had done now.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N: **Who wants to set an angry Hippogriff on Draco to knock some sense into him? *raises hand*

Aaaanyway, happy early Easter (or actual Easter depending where you are)!

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**c(") (")**


	16. 24th December

**A/N:** Allow me to sum up this chapter by quoting the Potter Puppet Pals (which I don't own etc):

"Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst."

"He's a little off today, haven't you noticed?"

"Maybe he's in loooove." … well not quite but you get the picture ;)

* * *

I reeeally hope this is okay; it's another long'un and I had real trouble writing this. It normally takes between 1 and 3 sittings to write a chapter but this time I ended up changing things about 8 times so I just don't know how well I've been proof-reading it lately as I must have read multiple versions of this 2 or 3 times each. (Sorry I'm not feeling well either.. I'll stop talking now and let you read)

* * *

**Sleepless Christmas Eve**

**1 day until the Yule Ball**

"_I feel pressured by what you said because I don't bloody deserve you!"_

Hermione woke with a start. She was breathing heavily; her heart was racing. Those words… why did she feel like she'd heard them somewhere before? She groggily rubbed her eyes as she repeated the sentence over and over in her head, determined to remember where on earth she had heard it, because she knew she had.

After some time, she had fallen back into a light sleep. She was in that weird in-between state where she was still half conscious. That conscious part of her was still repeating the words but she wasn't thinking about them anymore, instead just allowing her mind to wander. It didn't take long for Hermione's subconscious to match a voice to the words. She ended up jolting herself awake again as soon as she realised whose voice it was.

Draco's? No, surely not! That slimy cockroach could barely wait two days to snog another girl's face off after she broke off the arrangement for the Ball; there was no way he could ever have the capacity to say something like that. Then again, two days was a pretty decent time where Draco was concerned. But that still didn't excuse how insensitive it was… maybe he was trying to get back at her for not kissing him on Saturday, or maybe it was revenge for calling off the Ball arrangement. Either sounded plausible, but Hermione didn't want to believe Draco would do it for those reasons; she liked to think he would have put spiteful needs for vengeance behind him now.

Hermione pulled the covers over her head in an attempt to shut out the familiar drawl that was now ringing in her ears. It was like she just could not escape him lately. After her awkward run-in with him yesterday morning he had been everywhere she went. She must have bumped into him at least six more times. Even when she was in the common room he seemed to be right in her line of vision from the window every time she looked out of it. Ginny had refuted this claim; saying that he was always there because she was looking for him. Hermione still stood by her argument that his platinum blond hair was pretty hard to miss, but it wasn't completely impossible that Ginny was right.

Hermione propped herself up and groaned when she came face-to-face with her Yule Ball dress, which was hanging down the side of her wardrobe: another reminder of Draco. It seemed like such a waste now that she was back to being date-less. Parkinson was bound to spend every possible second humiliating her about it too – whoop-de-doo! Part of Hermione thought about finding Draco later on and seeing if they could still go together, for convenience purposes. She'd been thinking of doing this anyway after her talk with Harry, but she wasn't about to do that after what Draco did yesterday - she still had _some_ pride!

Truth be told, the convenience reasoning would be her cover story; there really was no use trying to hide the fact that she fancied Draco when her reaction to what happened yesterday more than confirmed this to Harry. Draco was free to do as he pleased, and she bloody cried for Godric's sake! She felt like such an idiot, but at the same time she couldn't bring herself to blame him, not as much as she should, at least. He clearly lived his life bottling up his emotions, but on Saturday he couldn't seem to hold anything back. He got so worked up about what she'd said to Dobby, and it was difficult for Hermione to see him like that when he had always been irritatingly composed and together ever since she could remember. And she'd just left him like that.

Hermione went to rub her eyes again but she noticed that they were damp. She hadn't even realised she'd been crying again until this point. She suddenly felt overwhelmed and suffocated by all of these feelings and emotions; she needed to get out of the castle for a little while. One look out of the window indicated that it was still quite early: maybe six or seven o'clock. It would be cold, but maybe that would do some good with the head-clearing process.

Hermione tiptoed over to her wardrobe, and layered up as much as she could before grabbing the blanket off her bed along with her wand, cloak, and a book, not even bothering to sort out her hair, which was falling out of her messy pony tail. She tried to open the dormitory door with minimal creaking, but ended up failing miserably. Luckily the girls she shared with were heavy sleepers and none of them stirred as Hermione slipped out and shut the door again.

Feeling considerably better already, Hermione left the common room and instinctively headed down to the edge of the Black Lake. It never did occur to her that she might have been drawn towards that spot because the lake is where the Slytherin common room was situated.

* * *

Hermione was not the only one having trouble sleeping that morning. Draco had been tossing and turning the whole night. He had slept maybe two or three hours, but had woken just past two a.m. and had maybe slept another hour since then. He decided it was time to give up; if he wasn't asleep now he sure as hell wouldn't be any time soon.

Draco punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape (really he just wanted an excuse to punch something) and turned onto his other side. He was more than a little startled to see Blaise Zabini staring right back at him across the room, a bemused expression on his face.

'What?' Draco mouthed to him. He wasn't a hundred per-cent sure Blaise had been able to decipher his message, and frankly he didn't much care either way. The giant squid swam past the dormitory window, causing the water to ripple and sickly-green flecks of light to swim around the room. One beam illuminated Blaise's face, and it was evident that he had understood, as he seemed to be mid-sentence of his own silent message, which Draco missed the first part of.

'What?' he mouthed again. After a second failed attempt at understanding him, Draco gestured for Blaise to get out of bed and come closer so they could actually talk. There was no way Draco was leaving his comfy bed when Blaise was the one pestering him.

Blaise rolled his eyes and eventually dragged himself out of his bed and walked over to Draco, his duvet draped around his shoulders. He sat on the floor beside Draco's bed leaning against his chest of drawers. Draco smirked in triumph. It really was annoying having to room with Crabbe and Goyle. It wasn't easy to wake them but the other boys had learnt not to push their luck; once it came to going back to sleep after being woken, Crabbe and Goyle snored for at least a good half an hour before fully drifting off again. Between the pair of them they made as much noise as a bloody mountain troll would make… a full grown one… that had blocked sinuses.

"What you got that look on your face for, Zabini?"

Blaise did a double take, "you don't know? Oh this is bloody fantastic!" he clapped his hands together in glee. This didn't last long as his gaze darted to the large masses that were Crabbe and Goyle at the far side of the room. He breathed a sigh of relief and smirked at Draco.

"What are you on about?" asked Draco, becoming slightly nervous now.

"You were dreaming about that little Gryffindor bookworm of yours."

Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes. Blaise must've got that phrase from Pansy; Draco was going to kill her as soon as he saw her! Then again after yesterday it probably wasn't a wise move… wait, what did Zabini just say?!

"I was what?" Draco snapped in a mixture of denial and panic.

"Yeah, yeah," Blaise nodded, "you were mumbling her name and everything in your sleep."

After a few seconds of freaking out, Draco caught sight of his friend's face and narrowed his eyes.

"You seem awfully calm about it Zabini, you know considering that I was allegedly saying the name of a Gryffindor Mudblo- er muggleborn witch who is best friends with Potty in my sleep," he raised a blond brow, a gesture that wasn't missed by the other wizard.

Blaise snorted with laughter, but tried to hold the full brunt of it in for fear that he would wake the others.

"Oh Salazar that was priceless. You actually believed me for a moment there, don't deny it!"

Draco reacted by sending one of his books flying at Blaise whilst he was distracted with his wand. It hit him on the arm with a satisfying thud. Draco was irritated because it was plausible that he could have been doing that; he couldn't sleep from the immense guilt he was still feeling. He had hurt her again, without even meaning to, and he had barely spoken to her since Saturday.

"Got your little temper tantrum over with now?" Blaise snapped.

"Yes," Draco replied dryly, "so what if I believed you anyway? It doesn't mean anything." _Liar. _His brain thought.

"'Course it doesn't," Blaise said sarcastically, "Parkinson isn't exactly the type to keep quiet when someone pisses her off you know."

Draco bowed his head. Shit.

"She told you." It wasn't a question, but Blaise answered anyway.

"Yeah. Seriously mate what's going on with you? You've been acting weird for days now."

Draco frowned.

"Why are you not kicking up a shit storm about this? If you heard what happened straight from the pug's mouth – no metaphor intended, she actually does look like one – then surely you know _everything_."

"Yeah I do," Blaise said. There was an evil glint in his eye that suggested there was more meaning behind those words, but Draco was still too tired to even think too much about that right now.

"Okay, before we get into a conversation which I'd much rather never have with anyone, ever, can I ask why on earth you were staring at me like that just a moment ago? It was rather unsettling to say the least."

"You were bloody fidgeting so much it was kind of hard not to take notice," Blaise replied, "trouble sleeping?"

Draco was immediately on the defensive, "so what if I am?"

Blaise smirked, "relax Malfoy, I'm on your side."

"I don't bloody see how. You've never liked any of the Gryffin-dorks, especially not Hermione." The way Blaise wrinkled his nose at the mention of her name was confirmation enough of this.

"Point taken, I can't stand any of them. But let's just say I've had certain… experiences, which makes me think a little differently to how any other Slytherins would. I can relate. Kind of."

"And what exactly would you be relating to?" Draco couldn't help it. He sensed that Blaise had worked something out, and his defence barriers were going up.

Blaise gave him an odd side-ways glance and shook his head, but he didn't say anything. Why did Draco have to be so difficult?

"Look Malfoy, it's pretty clear that Pansy won't be continuing to help you with this bet, and I think you need someone fighting in your corner until it ends. It's also pretty clear that this bet has been messing with your head," he took a deep breath, "okay from here on, our conversation stays between the two of us, unless you want me to hex your balls off. Agreed?"

Draco nodded, feeling very disengaged from the conversation, mainly because he was trying to block it out. It was one thing for him to admit his feelings for any girl, let alone Hermione Granger, the annoying muggleborn he had learnt to dislike since the age of eleven, to himself. It was another thing entirely admitting those feelings out loud. It just made the whole thing seem so much more real, and so much more insane. He didn't think he'd ever be able to put into words how he felt, but he knew he wasn't ready for that yet. Especially if he was talking to Blaise Zabini, someone who he had known pretty much forever but couldn't quite trust for some reason. Then again, there were very few people Draco _did _trust.

"Okay, well remember that girl I told you about, the one my cousin set me up with in summer?"

"That Reeves girl that you snogged senseless in _my _front garden and ended up being chased by one of the peacocks? I recall," Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah well, you know what my family's like. They've always been big believers in the Pureblood supremacy thing, and by the end of summer I started getting feelings for this girl. I ended up confiding in my cousin – the biggest bloody mistake ever!"

"Because?"

Blaise's face scrunched up like someone had just thrown a Dungbomb into the room, "as it turns out, the whole thing was a massive prank. The girl was a bloody Squib!"

Draco didn't know whether to laugh or join his friend in the face-pulling antics. He may be a little more lenient when it came to judging muggleborns, mainly because of Hermione, but he still drew the line at Squibs. He settled for an open-mouthed 'are you serious?' look.

Blaise grimaced slightly. "I'm not proud of it mate, believe me."

"Let me get this straight," Draco drawled, "you were with this girl all summer, and it never occurred to you that she never used magic?"

"She was hot, okay! Besides it's not exactly the thing you go out of your way to look out for. Magic's like second nature," Blaise defended, "anyway, that's why I can be a bit more understanding about Granger."

"How?"

"Because I grew up just as prejudiced as you did, and I ended up falling for a Squib when I wasn't aware of her blood-status before hand. After a couple of months of letting that sink in, it's kind of got me thinking that this whole blood belief system is bollocks. Purebloods have better social standings but it doesn't necessarily mean anyone 'beneath' that is bad."

Blaise seemed at a loss for words after that, apparently not knowing how to explain properly. Merlin help Draco if it was a good four months that Blaise had had to think about this and he still didn't know how to say how he felt properly.

"I think I get it," Draco said after he got over the initial shock that Blaise could have feelings for a Squib, "your views on that blood-crap have been altered somewhat so you don't have as much against Hermione as the others do?"

"Exactly!" Blaise said, throwing his hands in the air, "you have a way with words."

"If only…" Draco said quietly to himself.

There was a moment of silence when a thought crossed his mind. He frowned.

"Zabini."

"Hm?"

"Why exactly did you tell me that, you know other than giving me material I can taunt you with for the rest of your life? I get the stuff about wanting to help me with the bet – which really seems like a lost cause at the moment – but why are you bothering to tell me that you can 'accept' Hermione?"

"Honestly Draco, I think you already know the answer. I've been there; I know what the stages are. You're daydreaming, you can't sleep and you felt guilty when she caught you snogging Parkinson."

Draco winced. Crap, he knows. He was adamant that he wasn't going to admit it aloud yet.

"Zabini. Don't you bloody dare-"

"Relax. This conversation stays between us remember? Now we both have dirt on the other – don't bother denying it – so neither of us will blab."

"Er, thanks." Draco said. That was easier than he thought. He was partly expecting a huge interrogation until he admitted his feelings but it never came. _That was what Hermione would do_ he thought. _Dammit, stop thinking about her!_

"I'm not saying I agree with it, because I sure as hell don't. I understand; that's all. It's your bloody funeral at the end of the day," Blaise shrugged and shuffled back over to his bed.

As Draco settled himself down in his own bed again, two very high-pitched giggles emitted from what he presumed was the common room. He put the pillow over his head in the hopes it would drown out the noise, but it was no use. What a bloody fantastic start to his day this was shaping up to be.

"Are you kidding me? Blaise hissed from his bed, "it's too early to be putting up with this shit."

He threw off the covers and stormed out of the room, wand in hand and still wearing his pyjamas. Draco was not far behind him; maybe a good old-fashioned confrontation would lift his spirits a bit.

His optimism was short-lived when he entered the common room behind Blaise to see Pansy and Daphne sitting side-by-side on a sofa, their duvets wrapped around them. Of course: just the thing to officially round off Christmas Eve morning nicely.

"So you two have made up then?" Draco asked bitterly.

The girls exchanged smug glances, "Looks like it," Daphne smirked.

"Well that's just fine and dandy but do you mind saving your little reunion gossip session until, I don't know, when the bloody sun comes up?" Blaise scowled.

"Aw, lighten up Zabini, this is a happy time," Pansy smiled sickeningly sweetly at him, choosing to ignore Draco, not that he was complaining.

"For you, maybe," he muttered.

Pansy scrutinised him for a moment. It didn't take her long to realise that Draco wasn't exactly in a good mood, so she decided to turn the screw.

"Oh where are my manners? Draco, it's all down to you that Daphne and I are friends again. Thank you, you really opened my eyes to what a tool you are," her smile soon turned into a sneer and she cackled unattractively.

Draco knew better than to rise to it, but that didn't stop her words affecting him. The day had barely started and he already wished it were over. He stood there scowling at the witch for a moment before remembering something that happened yesterday. He still wasn't aware of details, but maybe that could be used to his advantage.

"So you two have been discussing everything that happened yesterday, or say, over the course of the weekend?"

"Oh Draco you know me so well!" Pansy said mockingly.

Draco nodded and turned his attention to Daphne. "_Everything?" _he reiterated.

"Yeah," Daphne replied. She looked a little confused. Apparently she hadn't caught on where Draco was going with this.

"Great," he drawled, his smile widening. Turning back to Pansy, he continued, "So Parkinson, care to enlighten me about what went on between Greengrass and Potter whilst we were in Hogsmeade? I've been dying to know ever since I caught her getting panicked when he and Hermione were having a private conversation yesterday."

Daphne scoffed, though her eyes had widened in worry, "Don't play that game, Malfoy, you looked just as panicked about Granger. Care to share?"

"Never mind him, what the hell went on with you and Potter?!" Pansy screeched, "I can't believe you'd keep things from me!"

"Personally, I didn't really see this as your business," Daphne shot back.

"Well it should be. Friends should share everything."

"Yeah? Some friend you've been to me over this last week!"

"Can we just skip to the part where you get into a catfight?" Blaise asked eagerly.

"Bite me, Zabini!" Daphne shouted, shooting a knockback jinx at him.

Draco just leant against the doorframe to the dormitories, enjoying this rare moment when the majority of the drama was not centred on him and Hermione. Blaise fell into the wall beside him in a heap, and he picked himself up wearily.

"S'pose I kind of deserved that one," he said, rubbing his head. Draco smirked.

"Look I'm sorry, okay! I've said it a hundred times already, I'm bloody sorry!" Pansy yelled, cowering away slightly as Daphne still had her wand out, and she had left her own in the dormitory.

Draco's eyebrows shot up. He had never seen this side to Parkinson before. She actually looked genuinely remorseful.

"Too little too late," Daphne sniffed. She marched out of the room, appearing a minute later now dressed in clothes instead of her pyjamas and stormed towards the exit.

"Oh Merlin are you going to Potter _now_?" Pansy asked, "I'm trying to make up with you here!"

"I just… need some time. He's better company than any of you idiots anyway," Daphne flounced off without a backwards glance.

A strange silence hung in the air. The repercussions of the bet were having a much greater impact on them as a group than anyone had originally thought. Draco had no doubt in his mind that once it was over, and once everyone had proven their point and the heat of competition had died down, then the girls would let bygones be bygones and reconcile in no time. But until the bet had officially ended, penalties and all, that was unlikely to happen.

He was stunned at the shameless way Daphne admitted she was going to find Potter. Maybe he should start acting the same way about Hermione. Perhaps his friends were the reason he had been refraining from speaking to her the countless times their paths had crossed yesterday. It probably didn't come across well from her point of view but maybe this was why he had been feeling so stressed. He was tiptoeing around everyone to keep up a persona and it was becoming too much to handle. He's have to take a leaf out of Daphne's book and choose how he wanted to be without worrying what other people thought. He'd surely be happier in the long run.

He realised that this was what Hermione was talking about the other day, and only now did he understand that she was right. Damn her.

"I'm heading out too," he said, going to get changed. When he came back he waved to Blaise and Pansy and headed for the common room door.

"Going to see Granger are you?" Pansy asked, still sounding a little jealous despite everything that happened the day before.

"Yeah, I am," Draco said with as much ease as Daphne had done. It was time for him to talk to her after days of trying to avoid it. She may slap him or point blank refuse to talk to him after yesterday, but he made a promise to himself that he'd make the most of his time with her before it all went to shit, and he was keeping it. He wanted to take her to that Ball to gain a few more stolen hours above any other reason. He had to try, at least. At this point the fact that he'd also win the bet was now more like a bonus prize; the icing on the cake.

Ignoring the way Pansy reacted to the small smile that spread across his lips as he spoke, he left the common room and walked into the Entrance Hall, feeling much better about having been open with his friends. Thank Merlin Blaise had pretty much already said he's fine with it beforehand; it was always nice to have some kind of support.

He stopped walking upon realising he had no clue where Hermione would be. Gryffindor Tower seemed like an obvious possibility, but how would he know if she was even in there, interrogate everyone who came out like some creep? No, there had to be an easier way.

"Malfoy." A voice interrupted Draco's thoughts and he looked up to see Harry Potter stood before him. He groaned.

"What, Potter?"

"I want a word with you," Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes at the tone of his voice, and the way Potter tried to sound threatening by using a command instead of a question.

"Honestly Potter, I know you're the bloody Git Who Lived but are manners lost on you? Has all of that fame got to your head?"

Harry growled under his breath. What the heck did Hermione see in this ferret?

"Look Malfoy it's about Hermione so if you're just going to be an arse about it-"

"All right, all right keep your scar on, I'm listening," Draco sighed.

Harry gestured for Draco to follow him. They walked in silence until they came across an empty classroom. As it was the holidays there was a lower chance of a teacher arriving and shooing them out before they finished their conversation, so Harry stepped inside.

"Better make this quick, Potter. Greengrass is looking for you," Draco said, walking into the room and closing the door.

Harry tried not to react at the mention of Daphne's name, but he felt a light blush creep onto his cheeks. He sighed when he saw Draco smirk at him, having noticed this.

"Okay, yeah fine," Harry said, "Hermione's told me what happened while you two were in Hogsmeade. I can't for the life of me understand why, but it's bloody obvious that she has," he gulped, "feelings for you," Harry couldn't help but cringe as he said this.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "she told you that, did she?"

Harry shook his head, "but the way she went on about how nice you can be and her reaction to you and Parkinson yesterday pretty much confirms she does."

Draco's heart felt heavy, "Oh Merlin she hasn't taken that to heart has she?"

Harry frowned. It was weird seeing Malfoy acting almost concerned about Hermione. Very weird.

"She's upset but she's trying not to be. She knows you had every right to kiss Parkinson, since you and Hermione weren't going to the Ball together anymore, but I think it made her feel a bit-" Harry paused as he tried to find the right words.

"What?" Draco pushed.

"Used." Harry said finally.

There was a silence and Draco soon became very antsy. He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. He wanted to find Hermione now more than ever.

"So basically I just wanted to ask, why did you suddenly go and kiss Parkinson? I know it's really none of my business and I'd much rather not go into details of your personal life, but since it kind of concerns Hermione, I want to know. For her sake."

Draco sighed. Potter was looking out for Hermione so he'd have to swallow his pride for the time being. "However much of an arse it makes me sound, I can't give you a straight answer on that, Potter. But all I'll say is that Saturday made me realise some things, and yesterday I was confused. It was never my intention to hurt Hermione, nor did I do it as an ego-boost because of the fact that she didn't ki- er, you know," Draco said a little awkwardly, "I just saw Parkinson as a means to confirm some stuff. It was totally idiotic in hindsight, but I'm the kind of guy who runs on impulse."

"Yeah you made that bloody obvious," Harry muttered, "So why have you been avoiding her?"

"You know, I'd much rather be having this conversation with Hermione instead of you."

Harry nodded, "I get that but I'm just looking out for her."

"Okay," Draco said. _Potter and his bloody hero-complex again_, "anything else before I go and find her?"

"Just one," Harry took a step closer to Draco and looked him dead in the eye, "If you make it up with her, just give me your word that you won't lead her on or embarrass her like you did yesterday. I don't want you making any more moves or advances on her unless you know you've got the feelings and the balls to back it up. I want the Quaffle completely in her court, you understand?"

"Really, a Quidditch analogy for the least sporty girl in our year?" Draco cocked an eyebrow but the humour faded from his face when he saw Harry's eyes flare.

Harry chose to ignore him and carried on, "she's been hurt by you enough over the years Malfoy, whether it was always intentional or not. You and I will never be friends, but I'm not going to stand in the way if Hermione likes you like I think she does. Just be sensitive of the fact that she's really new to this whole 'feelings' stuff."

"Yeah she made that pretty clear to me," Draco said, "I'll make sure to keep that in mind." Even before this conversation had begun he'd planned to do just that and refrain from initiating anything again, until the bet was over and when Hermione was ready. As soon as penalties were done, that would mark a time where he could start on a clean slate with her, and he would have to worry about being eaten alive by guilt of all of the lies that he felt after almost kissing her the other day.

Harry nodded, "Good. Because if you break her heart, I've already made sure she'll punch you again."

Draco winced at the memory and turned to leave the room. "So many violent Gryffindors," he muttered under his breath.

"Oh Potter," he said, turning back, "any idea where Hermione is?"

"Any idea where Daphne is?" Harry countered before he had time to fully think it through.

The two wizards silently regarded one another in a standoff much like the one Draco had with Daphne the previous day. Neither of them spoke, except to answer the other's question.

"She might've gone up to your common room since she's looking for you," said Draco.

"If she's not in the library, she'll be in the grounds somewhere. Probably near the lake, it's quiet there." Harry explained.

"It's the bloody middle of winter!"

Harry shrugged, "fresh air helps her clear her head when she's stressed. She practically lives outdoors when summer exams come around."

"Thanks Potter, I'll remember that," said Draco sincerely, "Oh, and you have my word that I won't do anything else. Anything that may happen between Hermione and me from now will be down to her, I assure you. And if there comes a time where I mess up again or hurt her, I can say now that it'll be a damn good reason behind it; that is, I'll think things through better."

The two of them stared at each other blankly for a few seconds more before Draco turned and left. He paused again as he entered the Entrance Hall, debating whether to go to the lake or the library first. Whilst Hermione had said the library was her favourite place, Draco was pretty sure she'd be stressed, in which case she'd be at the lake, so that's where he headed.

* * *

Hermione shivered and drew her cloak closer around her body. Her eyes were looking at the rippling water as the breeze grazed the surface, but her mind was elsewhere. She read a measly ninety pages of her book before those words entered her head again, and she wondered if they had been connected to whatever issue Draco was then, and possibly still was now, dealing with. That is, if she hadn't just imagined the whole thing.

She heard snow crunching behind her, signalling someone's approach. She presumed the person to be Harry, Ron or Ginny, so she didn't bother turning. The person stopped beside her as if waiting for her to acknowledge their presence: apparently it wasn't any of her three friends.

Hermione turned her head. She didn't have to look up to see who it was; the polished shoes were enough to confirm their identity. She bit her lip, not quite sure how she should act since she was feeling a plethora of things towards the wizard in her company in that moment. She decided not to say anything yet.

Draco was a little perturbed by Hermione's reaction, but he masked it well. He began to take his cloak off so he had something to sit on to avoid having to be directly against the snow.

Noticing this, Hermione asked, "What are you doing?"

Taking her words out of context, Draco sniffed in annoyance. Had he really ticked her off that much that she didn't even want him here? "I was just-"

"There's no need for you to freeze to death when there's a perfectly good blanket right here," Hermione patted the thick blanket that she was sitting on and scooched up a bit so there was room for him to sit down. She gave him a quick half-smile. The smile didn't travel to her eyes, but it was still a smile.

Draco took a seat beside her, making sure to keep his arms together in front of his body. There was little space between them and if he sat any other way their arms would be constantly touching, and both of them felt awkward enough as it was. They didn't need physical contact making it worse.

"Thanks," Draco said.

"Don't mention it," she replied indifferently, "look I was going to come and find you but, I'm just confused and I didn't want to take something the wrong way and look like an idiot if I brought it up."

"Understandable."

"Draco, why have you been so distant with me?" Hermione's voice was suddenly unsteady. She kept her gaze firmly on the lake for fear that she'd burst into tears if she looked at the wizard beside her. As much as she wanted to yell and scream at him for kissing Parkinson, she just couldn't do it, and if she did it would be unnatural and forced. What he did was uncalled for, but he looked so guilty when she found them that Hermione wondered if it was more to do with his issues he explained on Saturday rather than an ego-boost. He had looked guilty that day, too.

"Well you said you wanted some space while I figured some stuff out."

"And have you?"

Draco nodded. He knew all of the answers as to why he freaked out after the almost-kiss, and he now knew that he had feelings for Hermione. That much was emphasised even more by the fact that she was layered up much more than necessary, had her hair tied back in a messy ponytail and a make-up free face, and Draco thought she looked beautiful. It was more than how she looked; she was confident in her own skin, and that was a big part of beauty in Draco's eyes.

"That's good… are you able to tell me why you aren't comfortable with what I said to Dobby? You said some stuff about not being able to live up to what I said about you but where did that insecurity come from? I stand by what I said that I don't want to push you but it just worried me seeing you so open like that."

Draco froze. He should have known that question was coming next and he had no idea how to tackle it. The main reason was of course, down to the guilt about the lies of the means that their friendship originated, but he couldn't tell her that. Not yet. Nor could he admit his true feelings until after the bet. He refused to lie again, so he'd have to be as honest as he could with her. She deserved that much after how much of an arse he'd been.

"There are a couple of reasons," he said. Against his better judgement he reached out and touched Hermione's cold cheek, turning her head so that she was facing him before he continued. "I only feel comfortable sharing one of them with you for now. The time isn't right for you to know everything."

Hermione couldn't help feeling disheartened that he was still holding something back from her. "Okay, I trust your judgement on that," she said, meeting his grey eyes with her brown. She noticed Draco wince slightly at her words, but she wasn't in much of a position to push him on every little detail. She was just thankful she was getting any explanation at all.

"Well what I _can_ tell you is actually the same thing I refrained from discussing whilst we were at the Three Broomsticks, when you asked oh so politely why I have a need to one-up you all the time," he raised an eyebrow and Hermione smiled, "ever since our first year results were sent out – you remember they posted a huge list of the whole year's scores highest to lowest - my parents have been putting pressure on me to beat your exam results and 'put you in your place' as it were. I kept trying my best to better you, but I had to settle with only being as good as; you're too bloody smart! I've never felt good enough for my own parents, which is why I didn't exactly appreciate your actions. It was just too much pressure, and I don't think I can live up to what you were saying."

Hermione gasped softly at Draco's revelation, which for once was the complete truth. She wasn't expecting it to be quite so personal, and she was surprised that Draco could confide in her. On the other hand, it did worry her to a degree that there was still something he was yet to tell her, and that was probably bigger than this. Hermione gulped.

"Oh gosh, Draco, I'm so sorry. I never meant what I said in a bad way. I hope you know that."

"I don't blame you or want your pity Hermione, there wasn't any way you could've known," Draco said, turning his head away. He took a deep breath, "and I hope you know that I never meant to hurt you by kissing Parkinson. However bad it makes me look, it really meant nothing. I had an ulterior motive, you see, and let's just say I've never been one to assess a plan of action beforehand. As soon as I get an idea I just go with it, and more often than not, I end up in the shit, like now."

"Why am I not surprised?" Hermione asked, nudging his arm with hers. Draco flinched a little at the contact but Hermione didn't seem to notice. She knew she should judge Draco immensely for the fact that he didn't kiss Pansy purely because he wanted to, if indeed, he wanted to at all, but she couldn't help feeling relieved that his Slytherin mind had played some part in yesterday's events. Merlin, had she really felt jealous about _Parkinson_?!

"Is this ulterior motive another secret of yours?" she joked.

"Yes," Draco sighed. Hermione's expression fell.

"Oh," she said. She didn't quite know what to make of that information, "Well if the kiss yesterday meant nothing then that rules out the possibility of it being about Parkinson, so –"

"Why do you care so much what my motive was? You don't even like Parkinson," Draco snapped in a panic.

Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly, "Well perhaps it's because it crossed my mind that you could have had the same motive when you almost kissed _me_! Whether I like Pansy or not, that doesn't excuse the fact that what you did to her was downright cruel and selfish."

Draco winced at the harsh truth of her words hit home. He liked to think he masked his reaction well, though. _If only she knew the truth…_

"I don't know if you'll believe this, but for what it's worth, there was no ulterior motive when I tried to kiss you on Saturday," Draco said. He watched as Hermione's eyes widened slightly in surprise. He just as good as told her he liked her, but whether she picked up on that message, he didn't know.

Hermione's judgement told her that this was a lie to worm his way out of his own screw-up, but she knew it was far more plausible for it to be true. This wasn't so much as Draco kissing her, as it was a Pureblood kissing a muggleborn; she didn't think there would be a motive big enough for someone like Draco to put his whole individual and familial reputation on the line like that. It had to be genuine…

"I know I should have spoken to you sooner about this but everything's just piling up and it's a bit much to deal with all at once. Know what I mean?" Draco cut across her thoughts.

Hermione nodded, "Yeah. That's kind of why I ran off like I did on Saturday. I'm sorry I did that; I shouldn't have left you when you were so distraught."

"I shouldn't have tried to kiss you. It was after that when I started getting worked up. I s'pose that was a bit of a reality check; it was my own bloody fault that happened. All of this is my fault." He leant his arms on his knees and buried his head into them.

"Hey!" Hermione said firmly. She pulled one of his arms away so she could see his face. "If you really think about it, things only started going downhill when I pushed you away."

Draco scoffed, "you can't blame yourself for not kissing me; that's ridiculous. You didn't have to."

"I guess," said Hermione. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. That sentence floated through her mind once more. _I feel pressured by what you said because I don't bloody deserve you! _She gasped. After her conversation with Draco, it was now very possible that he did say that. She glanced over to him. He looked kind of defeated, almost sad. This wasn't the time or the place to bring it up, so she held her tongue.

"I suppose we should talk properly about that almost-kiss, huh?" he said after a long pause. She seemed a little on edge because he didn't detail what his motive was. Maybe it was time to confess everything; he was juggling way too many secrets and withheld information at the moment.

"We don't have to talk about everything right now."

Draco shrugged, "I'd kind of prefer it if we did. The quicker we get past this, the better. I'm really not used to all of this heart-to-heart talk."

Hermione knew he'd kill her if he saw the pitiful look she was giving him, but she couldn't help it. It was so strange seeing him wear his heart on his sleeve like this.

"Draco," she said softly, putting her hand over his. He didn't have the energy to shake her off, but he was all too aware of the emotional feelings he was having as well as the physical at the touch.

"Hm?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. Merlin knows you're emotionally drained enough as it is, and bringing up the kiss can also bring up, well, a much deeper topic," she blushed slightly, finally getting an inkling of what Draco meant when he said he had no motive when he kissed her. He didn't see her cheeks tint pink as his gaze was fixed on the water, "I can't say for sure how either of us would handle that, and I don't want to have this conversation so close to Christmas. Knowing us, it probably wouldn't move very smoothly," she laughed half-heartedly.

"I realise that Hermione," Draco said, finally mustering the inner-strength to brush her hand away, "but-"

She held up a hand, "If you really want to discuss this, can't it wait one more day, for when Christmas is gone and the Yule Ball's over with? Call me sentimental but I plan on being happy tomorrow. I don't want to be worrying or having any arguments about you or us or whatever you want to call it."

Draco smirked. He nodded his head, feeling very relieved that she wanted to hold off this discussion. He wasn't entirely sure how much he was hoping to gain by explaining why he kissed Pansy. He wasn't ready to tell her how he felt, but maybe some part of him had been hoping to find out where she stood as well. She as good as told him she liked him too on Saturday but there was never a clear confirmation. Oh well, it really was for the best that they postpone any more deep conversations until after the Ball, when Draco could talk to her with a clear conscience, like his original plan.

"So Hermione, would you say we know each other a little better now?" He said with a toothy grin.

"After that conversation? Definitely!" she said, "why?"

"In that case, what do you say you be my date for the Ball again?"

Hermione frowned before realising what he was doing. She'd said a load of stuff about the kiss and them going to the Ball being weird because they hardly knew each other.

She smirked, "is that what you call an invitation? I would expect better from _the _Draco Malfoy."

He rolled his eyes but played along with her little game. He stood up, put one hand over his heart and held the other out with his arm extended, gesturing towards her. He looked like a bad Shakespearean actor, but Hermione had pretty much dropped herself in this, so she just let him get on with it.

"Hermione Granger," Draco said loudly, "small Gryffindor bookworm with frizzy hair and an insufferable need to meddle. Would you give me, the ravishingly handsome and charming Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, the honour, of accompanying me to the Yule Ball tomorrow night?"

"If I say yes would you shut up and stop embarrassing me?" Hermione said, standing up too and smacking Draco's arm.

Draco raised an eyebrow and continued to speak in his loud voice, "not to mention that she is bloody unnecessarily violent." Hermione glared at him and he laughed, dropping his hands. When he next spoke his voice was normal, "Oh come on, lighten up. No-one's even around."

"Idiot," she said, though she didn't really mean it.

"So, what do you say?"

She sighed and threw her arms open wide, "Yes! I accept your invitation, Draco Malfoy – snarky, self-righteous Slytherin ferret whom never fails to wind me up at every bloody chance he gets!"

Draco cringed, "Okay I get your point, just shut up will you."

"Glad I made myself clear," Hermione smiled.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Well I don't know about you, but I'm bloody freezing so I'm heading back inside."

"Okay, hang on," Hermione said, gathering up her belongings.

The two of them walked side-by-side back up to the castle; both of them feeling considerably more festive now that they'd talked some things through and that they hadn't ended up losing each other's friendship like they both presumed they would after Saturday. They spent the remainder of Christmas Eve together, blissfully unaware of how brief their reconciliation would actually be.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N:** As much as I wanted to write a huge confrontation here, Hermione had a bit of a guilty conscience too so it wouldn't have worked that well, especially with the fact that Draco kissed Pansy when they were technically 'single'. It was probably fine but I've read this chapter too many times to take note of how it would translate to readers anymore.

Okay I'm just going to go curl up in bed with some hot chocolate to watch AVPM now :)

P.S - currently writing the Ball now ;) and the next chapter won't be so intense - promise!


	17. 25th December (Part 1)

**A/N:** Thank you for your amazing response to the last couple of chapters; it really made me happy :') I'm feeling much better now so hopefully I won't have any more 'off' weeks like I had with the last chapter.

So yeah... nothing like a bit of Christmas fluff when it's not Christmas... ;D

Enjoy!

* * *

**The Empty Box**

**Christmas Day: 3 hours until the Yule Ball – Part 1**

Hermione glared at Ron as a snowball whizzed just past the tip of her nose, where she was watching the snowball fight.

"Honestly Ron, that's the third time you've almost hit me!"

Ron shrugged at her and grinned sheepishly. "Lighten up Mione, it's Christmas."

"You're lucky it is otherwise I wouldn't hesitate to-"

"Oomph. Oi watch it, you donut!" Ron rubbed the back of his neck and whirled around to glare at Fred. His momentary lapse in concentration to talk to Hermione had allowed someone to hit him with a well-aimed snowball.

Fred said nothing but grinned at his brother widely. Ron bent to scoop up some snow, supposedly to exact his revenge.

"Woah, woah, Ronnie. You didn't think that was me did you?" Fred asked.

Freshly made snowball in hand, Ron paused in preparing his launch, "Who was it then?"

Fred stepped aside to reveal Ginny, who was standing quite a distance away. She waggled her fingers at Ron in a girly and innocent wave, winked, and ran off.

"It was Ginny?" Ron asked in awe.

Fred nodded proudly. "Good aim isn't she little bro? You watch: she'll be on the Quidditch team as a Chaser soon enough."

Ron's ears turned red, which were already pink from the cold, not really liking the fact that he may very well be the only Weasley currently at Hogwarts who never made the Quidditch team. Well, that will have to change.

Realising he was still holding the snowball, he marched up to Fred and shoved it straight in his face. "_That _is for calling me Ronnie," he smirked.

Fred spluttered and wiped the snow from his face. "Blergh, I call foul! Ref?" He looked around but nobody was listening. Well except for Hermione, but she didn't feel much like settling a debate right now. With every second that ticked by, she grew more and more nervous about the Ball, and Draco, and being with Draco _at_ the Ball. She had decided that she was going to follow through with her deal with Ginny after all, feeling like it was a chance of a do-over of the kiss she prevented from happening on Saturday. This did little to help her nerves though; it was one thing to say it and another to actually do it. Every so often she didn't quite trust herself not to chicken out. After all she still felt rather wary and cautious around him after the 'Pansy incident'.

"Ref? This isn't a bloody Quidditch game, you plonker," Ron rolled his eyes and ran in the opposite direction, right into the path of another snowball, and he fell over.

"Seriously?!" he exclaimed to nobody in particular. Fred laughed and pulled him off the snowy ground.

"Well well, maybe we can get a full set here. If you can block Quaffles as well as you get in the way of snowballs I'd say you'd make a fair Keeper."

Ron said nothing and proceeded to shake the snow off his brand new maroon Weasley Christmas jumper. _Keeper… hmm…_

Hermione giggled from the sidelines and drew her cloak further around her body. She glanced up at the clock in the tower from her seat in the courtyard for what felt like the millionth-and-first time that afternoon. It was 4:50pm. She was just about to turn back but she did a double take. As her gaze flicked downwards again she noticed a streak of bright blond hair that stood out almost dazzlingly against the darkness of the balcony and castle walls, as well as the black non-winter winter robes the figure was wearing. It was unmistakeably Draco.

She didn't know whether to be happy or scared when she saw him, just how long had he been lurking there in the shadows? Hermione kept her eyes on Draco, waiting for him to notice her. He was looking just out at the landscape at nothing in particular, but after a few seconds he looked down directly to where she was sitting. Their gazes locked and even from a distance Hermione could see his lips tilt to form that signature smirk. That git; he had so blatantly been watching her.

Draco beckoned to Hermione with his hand to go up and meet him. She rolled her eyes; of course he was far too important to be the one to move. She found herself smiling; the gesture was just…him, and she just couldn't get annoyed at that anymore.

She stood and held up her index finger to signal she'd be up there in a minute, and headed into the battleground of the snowball fight to locate Harry. She dragged him away from the crowd where there was less chance of being hit.

"'Sup, Mione?" Harry asked.

Hermione fought back a bubble of laughter at her friend's appearance. His glasses were askew, his hair was even more dishevelled than usual and his clothes were practically dripping from the amount of snow that had melted off them.

"I'm going to head up to the common room now," she said.

"How come? It's only," Harry stretched his neck to see the time on the clock, "like five o'clock."

"I need to go and get ready for the Ball," she said.

"You bloody what?" Ron shouted, overhearing this. He walked over to them with his mouth agape, "there's still three hours 'til it starts. Three hours!"

"I know!" said Hermione. She shuffled her feet impatiently, knowing that Draco would never let her hear the end of it if she took too long getting there, "I just..._need_ to go now," she fixed her gaze on Harry, hoping he would get the hint.

Harry looked at Hermione's earnest expression, then back at the clock, where he saw Malfoy stood on the balcony, and it dawned on him where she was actually planning to go. He sighed, still not feeling completely okay with the idea of her and Malfoy as a couple. He kept telling himself that he couldn't really judge after everything that happened with Daphne but Malfoy and Hermione was just _weird._ He knew Ron was still finding it difficult even processing the idea, and he didn't feel like dealing with any awkwardness today, so he decided it was best if Ron was left in the dark on this matter, just as he was still in the dark about the almost-kiss on Saturday. They were only together for the Ball anyway…

Harry cleared his throat, "Yeah, you need to do, um, that thing you told me about. The thing that would take you forever to do," he gestured vaguely with his hands.

Thinking on her feet, Hermione responded, "Er, yeah, my hair!" she then realised that she'd actually have to do something with it now that she'd said that. Crap – she really did have to get a wriggle on.

"Riiight," Ron said slowly. He shook his head. He had no bloody clue why girls needed so long to get ready, "see you then," he waved to Hermione and headed back to the snowball fight.

"Bye!" Hermione shouted after him. She and Harry said goodbye too and she made her way into the castle. She could practically feel Draco's eyes boring into the top of her head as she passed under the balcony.

Knowing she was taking much longer than expected anyway, Hermione decided it couldn't hurt to make a quick detour to the common room. She headed to the clock tower as soon as she could. Draco was stood in the same spot when she got there, and he was still staring out at the view.

Hermione crept up behind him, tapped him on the right shoulder and scurried around to his left side in the hope she'd catch him out. To her disappointment, he didn't fall for her trick and turned to the left. He looked less than impressed and raised an eyebrow.

"Aw you're no fun," Hermione pouted.

"I was fun when I was seven, when I last fell for that," he said with apathy.

Hermione blushed, "oh yeah, you're a Slytherin."

"Took you long enough to notice," Draco smirked, "you're really going to have to try harder to trick me, Hermione."

She nodded, pleasantly surprised to be avoiding the torrent of whinging for taking ages to arrive.

"I've got a present for you," she smiled and held out a medium-sized squishy package to him, "Happy Christmas!"

Draco's eyebrow rose again, "Is_ this_ why you took eons getting up here?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. She was still holding the present. "Do you want the bloody thing or not?"

Draco's eyes widened slightly, and he gently pulled the package from Hermione's hand. "Yes," he said meekly, "Thanks."

Draco hadn't meant to tick her off about that: he was planning on letting it slide, since it was Christmas and all. But he needed to stall while his brain tried to process what was happening. She'd bought him a present; that was just what he needed to make him feel even worse about himself, especially since she was still a little reserved at times. The Parkinson thing was clearly still bothering her, whether she cared to admit it or not.

It also didn't help that last night he was hit with the painful irony that he'd only started making an effort with the young witch purely for his own selfish gain of freeing himself for the guilt of what she had told the elf. Now he was in way over his head and the guilt had grown more than anything. What a bloody awful error of judgement that was.

"Don't mention it," Hermione snickered as Draco tore off the wrapping paper. He seemed curious and excited at first but this was quickly replaced by an impassive expression that clearly read, 'really?'

"What'cha think?" Hermione smiled teasingly as Draco unfolded the new set of winter robes she had bought for him. The corners of his mouth tilted up into a smile. She was just poking fun of the robes he had worn to Hogsmeade. It was nothing serious: thoughtful, yes but not serious. That made Draco relax considerably.

"Very funny, Mione," he said, chuckling slightly.

Hermione rocked back and forth on her heels. He had called her that a couple of times the day before so she didn't really think much of it now, though it was hard to ignore the feeling of her heart fluttering in her chest whenever he said it.

"Hey, at least you have proper winter robes now. They may not be as posh and expensive as the things you're wearing but these are actually practical," she laughed.

Draco smiled and shrank the robes down so he could transport them in his pocket.

"Okay, your turn," he said, digging around in a different pocket.

"What?"

"I got you something too."

"Oh," Hermione blushed. She didn't know what the big deal was since she'd bought something for him. Her heart thumped in anticipation as Draco finally pulled out a small, rectangular silver box with a green ribbon tied around it.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione," he held out the box to her.

She took it and sighed, "Thank you. I don't think much of the decoration though."

Draco winked and Hermione rolled her eyes and removed the lid. Her smile fell almost immediately. It was empty.

She frowned and her bottom lip quivered slightly. She narrowed her eyes at Draco.

"What?" Draco frowned and leant over to peer inside the box.

Hermione said nothing and just shoved the empty box under his nose.

"There's nothing there – guess that means your present is the box." His voice was serious but Draco couldn't keep his expression blank for very long, as a smirk crept onto his face.

Noticing this, Hermione's own expression softened slightly. Her mind slowly managed to put two-and-two together and she rolled her eyes.

"Draco, are you messing with me?" she asked.

Draco just laughed, looking very pleased with himself. He took the empty box from her hand and replaced it with an identically shaped and sized one, though this new box was red with a gold ribbon.

"Now that, dear Granger, is a Slytherin standard trick," he said, looking very pleased with himself.

"Suppose I'd better up my game then," Hermione replied. The words sounded bitter and sarcastic in her head but this just didn't translate to her voice from the flood of relief that washed over her. Her patience was already wearing thin with Draco and sometimes she kicked herself for letting him get away with the Pansy thing so easily. This trick, although harmless, made her doubts about him rush back to her. She told herself that next time something may happen, he wasn't going to worm his way out of it so easily, if at all. But until then, she was giving him another chance; however twisted it may be, she rather enjoyed his company and the challenging battle of wits they usually engaged in.

This box was slightly heavier than the last – it definitely wasn't empty. Thank Merlin. She didn't much feel like having a big bust-up on Christmas Day, which is exactly what would have occurred if this box were empty too.

She shook it and held the red box up to her ear, all the while being watched by Draco. The contents of it rattled quite clearly. Interesting…

"Such a strange girl," he muttered under his breath.

Hermione paused her rattling. "What?"

"What the bloody hell are you doing? Just open it."

"That takes all the fun out of it," she smiled, "you mean you've never tried to guess what a present is before you open it before?"

"Well when I receive a present, usually the first port of call is to open it," Draco said matter-of-factly. Hermione shrugged; maybe what she was doing was a Muggle thing.

She took her time undoing the ribbon, which was tied in a little bow. She would have ripped it off under normal circumstances, but this was no ordinary present, so she felt the suspense was apt. Plus there was the added bonus of driving Draco to the brink of insanity by making the opening process very slow.

After sighing and tapping his foot impatiently for a while, Draco caught on to Hermione's game and he removed the lid of the box with a casual wave of his wand. He said a spell but Hermione wasn't paying attention. She frowned when the lid flew off and narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're no fun," she repeated.

"I beg to differ," Draco smirked and leant against the railing, "as I recall we spent a rather pleasant day together yesterday."

"Maybe _you _enjoyed repeatedly casting the Jelly-Fingers curse on me whilst I was doing my homework, but I for one, did not."

"Only because _you _ruined _my _fun by refusing to play Wizard's Chess with me because I kept beating you," his smirk grew wider.

"That's not the reason why I stopped playing," though it really was, "I needed to do homework."

"Whatever the case, you ruined my fun so consider the lid removal my revenge," Draco said, not finding anything strange about Hermione doing homework on bloody Christmas Eve. It was just… a _Hermione_ thing to do.

Hermione smiled to herself and finally looked down into the box. She gasped. Reaching into it with a trembling hand, she delicately picked up the hair barrette she had seen in Malkin's Boutique. It looked even more beautiful in the bright sunshine than it had in the shop. She stared at it hypnotically, not realising when her eyes filled with tears of happiness. It was the same as she remembered, though she could almost swear that the central crystal was clear instead of a pale indigo-colour like it appeared to be now. Huh – must just be the lighting.

She finally found the willpower to tear her eyes away from it and into Draco's. He was chewing his lip nervously and looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something. That was a rare sight indeed. It was times like this where she couldn't quite believe what an arse he had been the other day, and moreover, how unpredictable he was. Whether this was a good thing or bad thing, Hermione was unable to tell as of yet. As soon as he took note of her open-mouthed expression, he raked a hand through his hair.

"What? Is it not the right one? Oh Salazar please tell me it's the one you were talking about – I'm going to kill that bloody elf if he messed this up. I made an alteration or two, yeah, but…" he started to babble and Hermione cut across him.

"Draco, wha- what are you talking about? This is it."

"Then why are you crying?"

"These are happy tears, you idiot!" she beamed up at him. His body relaxed and he let out a long breath, "it's just," she glanced down at the barrette again, "perfect. But you really shouldn't have bought this. It was too much money to spend on someone you've only been friends with for two weeks or so."

"What can I say, a Malfoy's date needs to look the part. But of course, the Malfoy is always the main attraction," he said with a wink. Maybe it was just the way he said it, or maybe it was the handsome twinkle in his eyes, but Hermione just knew that this wasn't the real reason he had bought the barrette for her. There was meaning and thought behind it, and those points alone gave Hermione butterflies.

She didn't make comment, but just moved towards Draco and threw her arms around his neck, still clutching the barrette tightly in a fist. She knew the gesture was forward, especially after what had happened over the last few days, but she just didn't think words were enough to tell him just how much it meant to her.

Draco stood frozen to the spot for a moment or two before gathering his bearings and wrapping his arms around Hermione's waist, much to her surprise. _Screw it, _he thought, despite the fact that his inner-Slytherin was cringing at the action. Dealing with a little awkwardness later on was worth it just to have this moment, a kind of moment he never thought he'd have again with Hermione. It was wrong on so many levels, but there was something about her that constantly intrigued him and drew him in.

The hug lasted much longer than was necessary, but neither of them seemed to care or even realise. Draco was content enough just to breathe in her floral scent (she was wearing that perfume again) whilst Hermione was trying to figure out why this didn't feel weird. They just seemed to fit together perfectly like a jigsaw; a bloody challenging 1000 piece jigsaw perhaps, but a jigsaw nonetheless.

"Why do you always feel the need to one-up me?" She laughed, repeating a question she had asked Draco at the Three Broomsticks. She heard Draco's heartbeat quicken, and soon she could feel the vibrations of his own chuckle, something that tickled her ear that was pressed against his chest.

The _whoosh!_ of something slicing through the cold air snapped them both to attention. Draco was a little slow on the uptake and failed to dodge out of the way of the oncoming snowball and ended up being hit on the side of the head.

"Argh shit – it's in my bloody ear!" he cocked his head to the side and thumped his other ear in an attempt to remove the snow.

Hermione peered down into the courtyard to see Harry, Ron, Ginny and the twins ogling them from the ground. Hermione blushed. She completely forgot that they were stood on the balcony, where anyone could see. At the same time, she couldn't help but smirk at the whole snowball incident just now.

By process of elimination she determined that it was Ron who threw the snowball; after all, she and Harry had told him that she had to leave to get ready for the Ball. Not to mention the fact that the others simply didn't have enough motive. Well maybe Harry did, but he wasn't in a position to act in such a way when Hermione had caught him and Daphne in a not entirely dissimilar circumstance the day before, and she had simply reacted by smirking and walking on by. The twins apparently didn't seem to have a problem with the idea of her and Draco judging by what Ginny had told her of the conversation she overheard, and she herself had always seemed rather supportive of the idea.

"Uh-oh, looks like you've been rumbled," Harry said to Ron as Hermione's eyes pierced disapprovingly into the redhead from above.

"_I've_ been rumbled?" Ron exclaimed incredulously, "what about _her_? She said she was going to get ready for the Ball. I knew something was off about that; no-one needs three bloody hours!"

His voice was loud enough to carry over the breeze to where Hermione stood. Feeling like she owed him some kind of explanation, she waved the red box for the group to see. If anything, this could just baffle Ron even more, but it was all she had.

"Wha'ssat she's holding?" Ron asked, squinting.

"Don't ask me, my glasses are apparently defective," Harry replied with a small smile.

Ginny squealed excitedly, "Ooooh he must have bought her a present! That's so sweet."

"Well, well, well," Fred said.

"It may not just be hormones after all," George added.

"What? But it's _Malfoy_! Call me judgemental but he always struck me as the kind of bloke who only thought about himself. He can't like Hermione _that_ much…if at all," Ron said dryly.

"The evidence begs to differ, little brother," George indicated to the balcony, where Hermione was using a hot-air charm to melt the snow from Draco's robes, hair and ear. She was smiling brightly at him and he was looking back at her with what appeared to be a legitimate affection. Ron gaped.

"'Evidence?'" Ginny rose an eyebrow at the twins, "have you two been watching Dad's Muggle videos about courtroom dramas and that Sherlock Holmes dude?"

The twins exchanged smirks and simultaneously held up their hands and said, "guilty."

Ginny rolled her eyes, but Ron was still staring in disbelief at the balcony.

"Bloody hell," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Daphne tapped her wand to a page in _Witch Weekly_, and then tapped her eyelids, which were instantly covered with the same make-up as worn by the model in the picture. She peered into her mirror and wrinkled her nose at her reflection. Eyeliner really didn't suit her; she looked like a bloody Goth. _No, _she thought, trying again. This time she had glittery pink eye shadow with matching lip-gloss – _Gross; this is more up Parkinson's alley. _On a third attempt (mascara, subtle smoky eyes and a dusky rose lipstick) she was satisfied.

She looked at her reflection again and pursed her lips. Maybe she should put contact lenses in instead of her glasses… wait. Why was she trying so damn hard, and for Potter of all people? Daphne raked her hands through her hair and banged her forehead onto the dresser. She knew it was a mistake to go and find him yesterday, but she honestly had nowhere else to go. She could have walked around on her own, but she just really had to vent and let off some steam about Pansy. Did that make her selfish?

Daphne began to feel suffocated by the small dormitory and ran into the spacious common room, not really caring that her hair was a complete mess and she was dressed like a slob. She didn't exactly have a large audience anyway, as the majority of students were still outside. She began pacing around, gnawing her lip and muttering incoherently to herself.

At that moment Draco entered, humming to himself. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Daphne, and blinked several times to adjust to what he was seeing. Daphne was acting so much like Hermione in that moment it was almost scary.

"Oi Greengrass."

Daphne stopped her pacing and looked up at him.

"What's up with you?"

"None of your bloody business, Malfoy," she sneered.

"Well excuse me for trying to be nice to you on Christmas Day. I shan't bother next time," he scowled and shrugged off his cloak in one fluid movement.

"Answer me this Malfoy; do you even care what's up with me, or are you just being a nosy arse?"

Draco's smirk said it all, and Daphne rolled her eyes. "That's what I thought," she said.

Draco mimicked her with a roll of his own eyes and strode towards the boy's dormitories. He stopped as he reached the entrance and slowly turned back to face Daphne, a look of clarity on his smug face.

"This is about Potter."

Daphne took a sharp intake of breath and her brown eyes widened. "How did you-?"

"Come on Greengrass, I've been way more involved with this bet in regards to interacting with the Gryffindors compared to you. Something's messing with your head, and trust me when I say that I know exactly what you're going through."

"You do?" Daphne asked sceptically.

"Please," Draco scoffed, "This whole bloody bet has been one massive headache. I've been questioning and seriously judging myself on quite a deep level, especially over these last few days. It's really not healthy. I was perfectly content being a 'tool' as Parkinson so eloquently put it before _you_ started this. And, you, might I add, didn't help in the slightest the other day with all of your little 'you-must-fancy-her-because-you-aren't-bloody-denying-it' mind games."

Daphne's gaze dropped to the floor, "Well I can see why you got so pissed off now."

Draco grunted his response. "So are you going to tell me or what?"

The blonde girl sighed. She didn't particularly want to speak to Malfoy about this, but at the same time it was nice having someone willing to talk to her about it, and he did seem to understand. Daphne sighed again, choosing to ignore the painful irony that she and Malfoy could have been allies over the last few days - at least, where the Gryffindors were concerned. She still thought he was an insufferable arse for what he did to Pansy – both for kissing her the other day and for leading her on before the bet even started - but at least they seemed to have something in common now.

"It's just, some weird shit has happened with Potter. Don't even think for one second that I'm going to go into details. You can deny it all you want but I just somehow know that some stuff has happened between you and Granger too. I've had the decency not to push you on it so I'd like the same courtesy from you."

"Whatever," Draco said indifferently

Daphne walked backwards until her legs hit one of the leather sofas, and she sank into it. "Well long story short, I got a bit worked up on Saturday because Pansy was still giving me hell about 'betraying her trust and friendship'," Daphne sneered at the memory, "and Potter was just… _there_ for me."

Draco cocked an eyebrow, "I'm not understanding how this classifies as 'weird shit'?"

"Let me finish, will you," Daphne glared.

The wizard held his hands up defensively and allowed her to continue. "You don't understa-… well you might do, but it just felt kind of nice to have someone there who would just let me be upset without pushing me for every damn detail, or any detail for that matter. Without even realising we just sort of let our guard down around each other," Daphne tried not to react as the memory of Harry kissing her flashed through her mind, "So yesterday I found myself seeking him out, because it felt good to get some stuff off my chest. I wanted to feel comforted again without being judged. Well, there's a good chance he and his friends have had a good old laugh about me but at least he kept his opinions to himself when I was there. He just said that he didn't want to push me into telling him anything, but he was worried about me. _He _was bloody _worried_ about me!"

"Stupid bloody Gryffindors and their nobility," Draco muttered this to himself, having heard the same thing from Hermione. Daphne heard his comment and she and Draco nodded in acknowledgement of the other's situation. "Why are you freaking out so much?" he asked.

"It may have crossed my mind at some point that maybe I'm not worth his energy and comfort because I'm just-"

"Using him?" Draco supplied, his stomach twisting in knots as he did so.

Daphne nodded. "Just a while ago, I thought that maybe I might care for him on some level, because I felt a little guilty, but that's just totally bonkers! Maybe it's just his comfort I like instead of him as a person, and that just makes me look like a selfish cow."

Draco ran a hand through his hair. "You're just going to have to find out what you feel for him on your own." He held back a shudder at the thought of anybody being attracted to Saint Potter, on _any_ level.

"How?"

"You're bloody going to the Ball with him aren't you? Just make sure you're not all weepy tonight and you're all set. Do what I'll be doing with Hermione, and stay with him for the whole night. Being in his company when he isn't comforting you would give you a sort of frame of reference for comparison for how you feel towards him then as opposed to yesterday, when you were upset."

"That's… actually not a bad plan, Malfoy," she half-smiled at Draco, who smirked in response. True to his Slytherin nature, he had an ulterior motive.

"Of course, if that will be too much pressure for you, considering I _will_ be winning this bet once the night is over, and you'll have to face kissing him, you can always back out right now," he drawled, somewhat hoping that she would crack under the pressure and refuse to follow through with her own bet. That would mean he would be able to start afresh with Hermione sooner than he had anticipated.

Daphne actually looked like she was considering his proposal. She looked him in the eye rather quickly and flatly said, "no."

_Dammit, _Draco thought. _So close…_

* * *

Hermione groaned in frustration as she pulled out the French braid she had been working into a bun and began brushing her unruly locks vigorously, tearing several of her hairs out by the roots in the process.

"Jeez Hermione, calm down. You'll have no hair left, otherwise," Parvati Patil laughed as she walked into the dormitories from the bathroom, her own sleek and shiny hair falling loosely around her waist so effortlessly. Hermione shot her an envious glare.

"At this moment in time I'd rather be bloody bald and wear a wig than deal with this mess," she muttered as she tugged out another knot.

"Aw, but you wouldn't be able to wear your pretty barrette otherwise," Lavender gushed, "it would be such a waste since you would have bought that just to go in your hair."

Hermione said nothing in return. Nobody in her House had a clue that Draco bought it for her, and she was hardly in the mood for a long gossip about him. She continued to pull and tug at her hair determinedly and stubbornly.

"If she's serious about a wig do you reckon she'd let me borrow the barrette?" Hermione heard Lavender whisper to one of the other girls. Without turning around or ceasing her brushing, Hermione addressed Lavender, making her jump.

"_She _certainly would not."

Hermione saw Lavender's pout being reflected in her mirror, "Whyyy?" she moaned, "My hair's pretty much the same colour as yours, if not a bit more blonde, which goes better with blue in my opinion, and-"

"No!" Hermione snapped.

The girls behind her looked at one another with confused expressions on their faces. They had never known Hermione to act this way before, bar when she was revising for summer exams, and the girls had learnt to keep out of her way during this period, but why was she getting so stressed about her hair? It may have something to do with the Yule Ball but Hermione had never seemed all that excited about it.

After a short pause, a cheeky grin spread across Lavender's face. "Ooooh is this about Draco?"

Before Hermione could so much as open her mouth, Ginny came barrelling into the room, drenched in melted snow and right on cue.

"Ooooh, are we talking about Draco?" she asked excitedly. She turned to Hermione and held out her hand, "Come on, and fork it over. Let me see what he bought you."

The girls gasped. "He bought you a present? What is it?" Parvati's eyes lit up with interest.

Hermione didn't even have to move as Ginny's eagle eyes caught sight of the glint of blue that lay on her dresser. She snatched it up and began examining it at all angles. Her mouth fell open, "Is-this-that-barrette-you-found-in-Hogsmeade-but-didn't-buy because-it-was-too-expensive?" she asked in one breath.

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully. "It might be," she said. She already knew the torrent of questions from her roommates was inevitable, but she had hoped to put it off until she had her hair sorted. So much for that now…

After she wasted about half an hour enduring Lavender's endless interrogation, she was cutting it short on time and her hair looked appalling. She pulled her dress on, conceding that she may as well do something productive in the midst of all of her panicking.

Ginny, who had slipped out of the room when the questioning had barely begun, re-emerged at that moment with a bottle in her hand.

"Here," she said, tossing it to Hermione, "I figured you might need the extra short-cut since you wasted Godric knows how long at the clock tower with Malfoy." She winked and darted out again.

As much as Ginny's sixth sense unnerved Hermione at times, this was a rare instance that she felt grateful for it. She glanced at the bottle's label: _Sleekeazy's Hair Potion._ There was a little note attached to it written in Ginny's neat script.

'_Don't forget we still have our little deal…' _it read.

Hermione smiled to herself. She took a deep breath and got to work on 'taming her frizz' as Draco would say. The potion worked a treat, although she used a substantial amount of it before it had any effect. She managed to style it successfully on first attempt, and took one good look at her barrette before clasping it to the side of the elegant knot she had made. Hermione surprised even herself when she realised that she had only remained calm and patient during this time as her mind was preoccupied on other things: namely, her deal with Ginny.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N: **Ooh it's getting closer, I hope you enjoyed it :)

I'll do my best to keep updating every 4/5 days as I've been doing so far, but I'm going back to college on Tuesday, I'm doing a fanfic writing competition; the first round of which is starting next week, I'm doing a Drabble a Day challenge too so I may not have as much time to write for this. I'm currently mid-way through chapter 19, and I always seem to do okay whenever I think updates will slow down so it'll probably be fine but just so you know...

Having said that I'm quite keen to get the next two chapters up as soon as possible, so we'll see what happens.


	18. 25th December (Part 2)

**A/N: **IT'S HERE! THE BALL IS HERE! (Woop!)

So yeah… I may have had Granger Danger from AVPM on replay the whole time I was writing this…

Be warned that I had to split the Ball into two chapters. This is the shorter and fluffier half :)

* * *

**The Beginning of The End (of the bet)**

**Christmas Day:** **00:00:05, 00:00:04, 00:00:03, 00:00:02, 00:00:01, 00:00:00 seconds until the Yule Ball – Part 2**

Draco's gaze remained fixed on the floor of the common room. He had been sat on one of the sofas tapping his feet anxiously and impatiently for the past hour or so, having been too hasty in the 'getting ready' process.

"Hey you, what time is it?" he asked a third-year girl, who paused before responding. She seemed to be weighing out her options as to whether she should co-operate and answer, since Draco was older than her, or whether she should make a surly remark in return (a common dilemma in Slytherin house). In this instance, the girl decided to co-operate, which baffled Draco somewhat as almost every time, a student would retort. Maybe this girl was feeling generous because it was Christmas. Well either that or she had clearly been sorted into the wrong House.

"Errr, just turned eight o'clock," she said, glancing at a rather garish and expensive wristwatch.

She flounced off before Draco could thank her – not that he was going to anyway – and he resumed his foot tapping. He considered his own options for his plan of action. Hermione always struck him as the type of person who would show up irritatingly early, in which case he should already be down in the Entrance Hall since the Ball had technically started as of five, six, seven seconds ago (assuming that hideous watch was accurate). But on the other hand, there was every chance Hermione still felt wary and sceptical about him, and so she may show up a few minutes late to avoid feeling like he was going to stand her up.

Draco eventually decided to play the optimist and to head there straight away. His ego, and heart for that matter, didn't really enjoy the thought that Hermione would still be having doubts as to whether she could trust him. Draco pushed those thoughts away and made his way to the door; after all, he hadn't exactly done a good job of proving her that he was a changed wizard lately, so he'd probably deserve it if she were cautious.

An uneasy feeling in Draco's stomach remained with him throughout the brief journey to the crowded Entrance Hall, almost like he could sense that something was not right or that something bad was looming. The more he thought about what the feeling could mean, the more worked up he got, and he refused to let his unease be noticed by anyone, least of all Potter and Weas-

"Bloody hell!" Draco suddenly burst out laughing as Ron and Harry came into view, and the twisting in Draco's stomach eased considerably. The boys stopped in their tracks. Ron looked mortified, and his ears, along with his entire face, turned a deep shade of red, which made the whole spectacle of his dress robes even funnier. The blond wasn't sure if it was just his eyes playing tricks on him, but he could almost swear he saw Harry's mouth flicker into an amused smirk.

"By Merlin, those clothes are so hideous even a house-elf wouldn't want to wear them," Draco's laughter died down but a wide grin remained planted on his pale face.

"Malfoy-" Harry said warningly, for Ron was too busy muttering incoherently under his breath.

Draco ignored him and continued to taunt Ron, not even caring that the redhead wasn't listening. His amusement was enough to calm his nerves and take his mind off the stress he had been feeling for so long. Plus, he felt the need to exact his revenge for the snowball-in-the-ear incident.

"You look like a frilly Dungbomb!"

Ron's head lifted and a deep frown was furrowed onto his forehead. At first Draco thought he may have pushed his luck a bit too far, and he readied himself for the altercation, but it turned out that the Weasel wasn't looking _at _him, but _past_ him. Without saying a word, Ron marched past Draco and approached Fred and George, who had been wiggling their eyebrows and wolf whistling at him.

"What the bloody hell are you wearing?" Ron exclaimed as he stared enviously at his brothers' sleek and stylish dress robes. His voice was more of a whimper now, as all of the staring and embarrassment was taking its toll on him.

"Dress robes," the twins answered, simultaneously looking Ron up and down with dubious expressions.

"No offence Ron, but I think we should be the ones asking that question," Fred said.

"Mum bloody sent me these!" Ron lifted and dropped the hem of the main cloak in angry gesture, which caused the frills around his collar to float up and down again in the breeze. The twins burst out laughing.

"Well she didn't send _us_ any robes, did she Fred?" George asked his twin.

"No, we had to go and buy our own; so did Ginny… must mean that you're her favourite, Ron," Fred winked.

"Oh bugger off," Ron pivoted sharply and walked back over to Harry and Draco. Once again, the lace floated upwards and bounced lightly off his shoulders as he moved. He sighed in frustration, and a brief silence stretched out between them as they all waited for their respective dates to arrive.

"If it helps, Weasel," Draco said. Ron looked up wearily, "you are by far, the _prettiest _Dungbomb I've ever seen."

"Gee, thanks," Ron muttered. There was no use arguing with him, for even he knew how hideous his robes were. "Hey Malfoy…"

Draco narrowed his eyes slightly, "What do you want, Weasel?"

"I'm going to give you a once-in-a-lifetime offer, to get rid of me for good. What do you say you _Avada Kedavra_ me right now?"

It didn't take long for Draco to catch on, "As much as I may regret declining that generous offer in the future, I'd much rather have you alive and endure four hours of embarrassment for wearing those robes. Plus, I hardly think it's worth getting thrown into Azkaban for."

"Ferret in Azkaban, that'll be the day," Ron snickered to Harry.

Draco's smirk vanished and he stepped forwards, pointing a finger in Ron's face threateningly. Nobody reminded him of his experience as a ferret – and indeed being down Crabbe's trousers – and got away with it.

"You'd better learn to watch your –"

"Oi!" A girl's voice shouted from somewhere behind them. It was Ginny. "Honestly can't you learn to get along for one minute?"

"No," the three boys said at the same time.

Ginny rolled her eyes and turned to Draco, "How hypocritical can you get? You call Ron 'Weasel' all the time so I hardly think you have an excuse to get touchy when he calls you a ferret."

"Yeah but-"

"Ah," Ginny held up a finger to prevent Draco from completing his excuse, "You're outnumbered now. Two Weasels against one ferret."

Draco scowled despite the fact that Ginny's face gave away the fact that she wasn't taking this conversation seriously. He was more concerned of the fact that he was effectively now surrounded by Gryffindors.

"Er, Gin?" Harry said, "Neville's over there. I think he's looking for you."

"Oh okay, I best be off then," Ginny smoothed down her dress and disappeared into the crowd.

"Make sure to put numbing charms on your feet!" Draco called after her, remembering what Hermione had said about Neville being her dance partner in classes. Somehow Draco got the impression that he'd be the clumsy and ungainly type so he thought it best to warn her; it was the female Weasley who convinced him to go to the Three Broomsticks at the weekend after all. Well she blackmailed him but nevertheless Draco had begrudgingly forgiven her for that.

Ginny turned back, frowned in confusion and shook her head before continuing on. No matter - she'd understand what he meant soon enough.

"I thought this thing started at eight," Ron said to no-one in particular, "When can we actually go into the Great Hall?"

"I s'pose Dumbledore or whoever wants to give people a bit more time to get down here for any late-comers. It shouldn't be too long though," Harry said. He was fidgeting with the sleeve of his robes. He looked slightly nervous.

Draco resisted the urge to make a sly jibe about this; he wasn't exactly feeling a hundred per-cent composed himself. Where was Hermione?

At that moment the large doors to the Great Hall opened, and Professor McGonagall began ushering the growing mass of excited students inside, all the while calling out for the four Triwizard Tournament champions and their partners to hang back in the Entrance Hall. Draco rolled his eyes as he learned that the champions had to make their own special entrance; he would expect nothing less where bloody Potter was concerned.

As the crowd thinned, a Hufflepuff girl from their year whom Draco recognised but could never be bothered to learn the name of skipped over with a wide grin on her face. She stopped in her tracks when she saw what Ron was wearing and her smile faltered slightly, but she recovered. Poor girl, she must be the Weasel's date.

Draco took this time to get a good look at her, unabashedly raking his eyes over her. She was pretty enough; long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, tall and slim. She was wearing a lilac three-quarter length gown that showed off her figure nicely, and yet Draco wasn't completely bowled over by her. Something was missing… and he had a niggling feeling that that 'something' was a wild mane of hair, or a lightly freckled nose.

_Shit… _

Draco's thoughts snapped back to what was happening and he noticed that the blonde girl was looking at him with a cold expression.

"Sorry, do I even know you?" Draco asked. He had no idea why she looked so pissed off at him, but it occurred to him that he might've insulted her at some time or another in the past.

The girl scoffed and grabbed Ron's arm, dragging him into the Hall. "Arsehole," she muttered as she walked away.

"Did I just get insulted… by a Hufflepuff?" Draco asked.

"Looks like it," Harry said, trying not to sound too amused.

Draco shrugged, "No matter, it's a common opinion around this place."

"Fact," Harry corrected. He felt very awkward about still standing with Malfoy in the near-deserted Entrance Hall and at the same time waiting for another Slytherin to come and rescue him from enduring his presence further. Merlin, he never thought he'd ever land himself in this position. He didn't even know exactly how this all came about in the first place, come to think of it.

Draco arched a blond brow, "You know what else is a fact, Potter?"

Harry groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Here we go; he really should learn to keep his mouth shut around Malfoy.

"Enlighten me."

"Whether you've been too dense to realise it or not, I've been doing my best to be civil to you since I left the common room for Hermione's sake. The matter is that you are not showing me that same courtesy, which makes you just as much as an arsehole as I…" Draco's voice trailed off as he looked back at the dark-haired wizard and narrowed his eyes, "And I believe the fact that you are currently not listening or even looking at me right now is more enough than to support that argument."

But Harry didn't hear a word of Draco's rant. It wasn't that he was intentionally ignoring him; he was just completely thrown and distracted by the girl who had just emerged at the top of the last flight of stairs down to the Hall.

"Potter?" Draco's voice seemed distant, as Harry was still focused on the girl.

"Hermione?"

At the mention of her name, Draco's head snapped away from Harry as he turned to look in the same direction he was. A girl was stood on the top-most step looking down at them. She was familiar, and yet at the same time, so different. She seemed to have Hermione's petite frame and hair colour, but didn't possess the same unruly mane from what Draco could make out; the fact that the girl was stood slightly in the shadows didn't help him to identify her faster, but Potter seemed to think it was Hermione. She was the only person standing there, so it had to be her whom Harry was addressing.

Draco squinted. He silently willed the girl to descend the stairs so he could know for sure. Deep down, though, Draco already knew it was her. His heart began thumping in anticipation as the girl took a step downward, almost as if she sensed his wishes.

She descended slowly, but moved with a regal grace that captivated the Slytherin. He watched every nuance of her movements as she came closer into view; utterly transfixed at the way her posture seemed to lengthen her small stature. Her shoes were simple ballet pumps with small stiletto heels that created delicate tapping sounds against the stone floor with each controlled step, and there was the faint noise of swishing fabric from her floor-length gown as her legs moved beneath the skirt. The torches on the walls illuminated the material… the _periwinkle-blue_ material. Draco gulped as he felt his throat dry up.

The girl finally reached the flat ground and stepped out of the shadows. Draco's jaw dropped. It _was_ Hermione, looking nothing like he'd ever seen her before. She was breath-taking (quite literally, as Draco's breath had inadvertently caught in his throat at some point during her descent and he had yet to release it). The dress was beautiful and floaty around the hips, accentuating her slim waist and the same fabric lay on her shoulders and bounced in a similar way Ron's frill had done. But in this instance, it wasn't funny. Draco's entire being warmed in sympathy to the fact that Hermione must finally be feeling feminine and empowered.

Hermione smiled coyly at Harry for a moment before her eyes travelled sideways to meet Draco's, and her smile grew wider, a pretty tint of pink covering her cheeks and nose as she blushed. She was positively beaming at him, and seeing her so happy after all of the stress he'd put onto her shoulders recently made his own grin begin to form. It didn't turn into an equally toothy and uninhibited smile until Draco caught sight of the central indigo stone in the barrette he had given her earlier that day, which seemed to have brightened in colour since he had last seen it. He beamed back at her, not even caring that Potter was staring at them both as if he didn't quite believe what he was seeing, and not even caring that McGonagall was trying to catch their attention to usher them into the Hall.

It may have just been his deluded mind and ego playing tricks on him, but the moment Draco saw (or thought he saw) the affection in Hermione's warm brown eyes was the moment he realised how amazing she was for giving him a second chance, and indeed another chance after that. At first he'd been convinced that either she was just plain stupid or he was a better actor than he gave himself credit for, but some way along the line, he'd been enlightened; he doubted anybody else would have given him the time of day if he'd treated them the way he had treated Hermione over the last few years.

Now more than ever, he felt small and unworthy of her friendship, and yet, she was looking at him as an equal, completely oblivious and naïve to the schemes that was the foundation of their bond. Draco felt sick to his stomach. He dreaded the day she ever found out…

But he didn't want to think about that at the moment. He just wanted to focus on Hermione and the here and now. Part of him was fighting the urge to just pull her close and kiss her inviting pink lips; the ghost of Potter's voice from their recent conversation as well as his guilty conscience were screaming at him that he'd have to wait a day or two longer until the bet was over with. He didn't think he'd be able to live with himself if anything happened beforehand.

The _Malfoy _part of him on the other hand felt very unsettled by his emotions. The part of his brain that had been tainted by his parents' incessant lectures about the blood-status hierarchy of the wizarding world still remained ashamed and disapproving of anything to do with the girl who stood before him. If only his father could hear his thoughts right now - he'd have a heart attack.

His smile fell a little as he tried to settle the internal debate going on in his head.

"Draco?" Hermione asked unsurely.

Draco's glazed over eyes refocused with a shake of his head. Shit. Just how long had he been stood staring at her without saying anything?

"Hm? Oh, er hey Hermione," he said with a sheepish half-smile.

"'Hey'? Is that all I get for all of the effort I put in to the stupidly time-consuming, strenuous task of 'taming my frizz'?"

"Err…" Draco faltered. He always seemed to seize up when the topic was meaningful or mushy. He'd splurged out many a fake compliment to desperate girls (namely Parkinson) in the past, but this time it would be real, and something within him was holding him back.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Well coming from you I suppose leaving you speechless is the best compliment going," she smiled.

"Yeah you should dress like that every day Mione," Harry chipped in from the sidelines, "He'd never speak again, and I'm sure that would be lovely for everyone."

Draco frowned, "Is there a reason you're still hanging around like a bad smell, Potter? Oh I'm sorry not 'like' – you are one. And I always wondered why you and Dungbomb Weasel go so nicely together."

"Draco!" Hermione berated.

He shrugged innocently, "Whether you believe it or not, I was actually being nice to Captain Spectacle over there before you arrived."

"Captain Spectacle?" Harry quizzed.

"It's been four years, Potter, I'm running out of insulting nick-names."

Hermione watched this encounter with amusement, "Forgive me if I don't quite believe that you were being civil before I got here."

"I bloody was, okay? In fact, I was giving him an earful about that very thing but _he _wasn't listening because he was so distracted about how bloody amazing you look!" Draco's angry outburst caused him to inadvertently let slip the compliment he had been holding back earlier. He clamped his lips shut tightly, but it was too late to retrieve the words.

"Charming," Harry said dryly, but Hermione wasn't really listening.

Draco had given her a straightforward compliment, albeit a slightly crude one, but it was real and Hermione's heart suddenly felt lighter and her blush reappeared on her cheeks. She glanced at the ground shyly. She was really out of her comfort-zone in terms of attire and general appearance, and only now did she feel like herself. If Draco had made the compliment in a cheesy, poetic fashion she'd feel like she was up on some sort of pedestal instead of down-to-earth like she preferred, but his blunt manner was nothing less than she was expecting.

"Thank you," she said once she'd gathered her bearings, "and you look a bit like Dracula," she added, spotting the raised collar on his black dress robes.

"Who?" Draco was confused, but somehow he got the feeling that this 'Dracula' wasn't someone he'd want to be compared to.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione, grinned, "It suits you. I'd hate to boost that already inflated ego of yours, but you do scrub up rather well."

Draco fought the urge to make some smug remark in response and settled on a 'Thanks'.

McGonagall was becoming almost intolerable now so Draco held out his arm for Hermione to take, and began to guide her into the sparkling Winter-Wonderland that was usually the Great Hall. When this bet first came about he never thought in a million years that he'd actually be proud to have Hermione Granger on his arm and as his date. Moreover, Daphne's 'stay with her all night' requirement now seemed like a blessing as opposed to a curse.

Speaking of the She-Devil, Daphne rounded the corner at that moment wearing a fitted midnight-blue ball gown and Harry expelled a breath. He had never been more delighted to see a Slytherin before. It would have been traumatic to say the least to go into that Hall and officially open the Ball with no dance partner.

Unfortunately for Harry, Draco had decided to turn back around that same moment.

"Aah here's Mrs Spectacle!" He said, noticing that Daphne had decided to wear her glasses instead of contact lenses after all.

Harry shot him a dark look and Draco chuckled before disappearing with Hermione into the Hall.

He didn't even get a chance to greet, or even look at Daphne properly before her sharp tongue cut across him.

"Oh thank Merlin that you seemed to know what you were talking about with the fabric," Daphne sighed, reaching out to touch some of the loose material around the sleeves, "Polyester. Good. I almost asked for Charmeuse silk instead of Taffeta but I'm glad I went for the latter."

"Err, what's the difference, exactly?" Harry asked weakly. Bad mistake.

"Well Charmeuse has more of a smooth, satin-y look to it. It's kind of shiny like normal silk, but Taffeta is better for texturing so it has more metallic-y shades to it…"

She kept lecturing him about materials again, and Harry sighed. Why did he even ask?

* * *

"Dear Godric what on earth is so difficult to understand about 'Please make your way into the Hall now'?" McGonagall sighed as Hermione and Draco finally crossed the threshold and the large doors closed behind them with a bang.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Hermione said meekly, blushing slightly.

McGonagall turned to Draco, as if expecting some sort of apology or explanation from him also.

"Er, yeah, terribly sorry, Professor," he drawled, "but I assure you we would have been much more punctual if Hermione here didn't take forever walking down a few stairs."

"Hey!" Hermione elbowed him, but McGonagall didn't seem to care. If anything she seemed to be amused.

Draco shrugged, "Sorry, Slytherin force of habit."

"Typical." Hermione rolled her eyes.

Snape slunk onto the scene and stood next to McGonagall. Both were hard-faced and stoic - a rather humorous juxtaposition to the merriment of the setting and holiday cheer that surrounded them.

"Ten points from Slytherin; twenty points from Gryffindor. For holding up proceedings on this… _event._" the older wizard said in his usual monotone voice with a sneer.

"What? But it's Christmas!" Hermione protested, "How come I get more points docked?"

"Precisely," Snape's black eyes bored into Hermione, "And what better gift is there to give myself than docking some points? And to answer your question Miss Granger, I believe the added penalty is apt as Mr Malfoy so kindly pointed out that you are to blame."

"Severus," McGonagall hissed, "Surely you can cut the girl some slack just this once?"

"What about _me_? Don't I deserve to be let off too?" Draco bristled, but the witch paid him no heed.

"On the contrary Minerva, had it been any other day of the year it would have been fifty points docked from Gryffindor House. I must be embracing the Christmas spirit after all," Snape said in the least jolly voice he could muster and flounced away, his usual black cloak billowing behind him.

"Well I see my lovely Head of House has made the effort to dress up," Draco commented sarcastically.

"I didn't really have high expectations," Hermione replied, "I can't really imagine him wearing fluffy white dress robes, can you?"

"Well I can't _not_ now!" Draco glared.

McGonagall began barking orders at the students to stand at opposite sides of the Hall to form an aisle for the champions and their partners to walk down. Draco and Hermione joined the throng, subconsciously taking a step or two away from one another to create distance between their bodies.

They'd both realised that whilst they had grown accustomed to letting their guards down around one another, they hadn't yet shown such a display when in public. To almost everyone in the room, they were still borderline enemies who were just about able to be civil, which probably explained the array of dubious glances they were receiving.

Tonight was evidently going to prove to be a challenging test for them. Draco's barriers were already raised as he returned the glares of several of the onlookers. He felt very exposed and helpless, like a caged animal as he stood near Hermione, though he didn't know why. He almost missed the privacy of the balcony or the Three Broomsticks basement, feeling just the same as he had done after the broom cupboard situation.

Draco's palms felt sweaty and he bit the inside of his cheek absently. How the hell were they going to get through the night?

"Thanks for dubbing me in there," Hermione's voice brought him back to reality.

Draco half-smiled, "Why were you taking so long walking down the steps anyway?"

Hermione smiled shyly, "Actually I er… was just trying not to fall over…"

The blond couldn't help but smirk at her honesty, "Well if it helps, you pulled off the whole 'alluring mysterious woman' vibe quite nicely." It seemed to help to a degree if Draco kept his gaze on her; he could pretend there was no one else in the room.

Before Hermione could reply, Professor Flitwick tapped his lectern and the orchestra began playing. The chatter died down and focus shifted to the doors. A sense of anticipation and excitement was thick in the air as the music rose and the doors opened once more. The four champions and their partners walked down the aisle to the dance floor.

First came Fleur Delacour with Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain and Chaser. Fleur was predictably looking as regal and elegant (if not a bit stuck up) as ever, with Roger smugly sauntering beside her, relishing the envious glares being directed towards him by almost the entirety of male students. Draco felt somewhat jealous of the Raven-bore's achievement, but he wouldn't let it pray on his thoughts. Much to his shameful surprise, Hermione actually looked more beautiful than the majority of the Beauxbaton's students. Hm. Daphne's bet seemed to be teaching him a lesson in more ways than one (not that he'd ever tell her that).

There was a chorus of girly squeals and thunderous applause as Cedric Diggory followed Fleur and Roger with Cho Chang on his arm. The noise seemed to amplify even more when Viktor Krum and Pansy walked down next. Hermione snorted as the Slytherin girl was evidently under the deluded impression that the applause was for her. She strutted down the aisle in a short hot-pink cocktail dress with matching stilettos and make-up.

Ginny caught Hermione's eye from the other side of the aisle and the two girls shared a secret smirk as Parkin the Imp's words that Pansy should wear a floor-length dress in order to hide her fat calves floated to the front of their minds. Hermione stole another glance at Pansy's retreating form and snorted again when she saw that the infuriating creature had been right.

"Here comes Saint Potter," Draco commented as Harry and Daphne entered the Hall. Several more Slytherin students who were standing nearby snickered at Draco's remark and began jumping up and down showing off their 'Potter Stinks' badges that they had pinned to the front of their dress robes in the hope Harry would notice. But the ruckus soon died once it registered who his date was. Several confused murmurs and whispers started up then, allowing Daphne and Harry to successfully reach the white dance floor with minimum hassle.

Evidently their partnership had been kept on the down low, or at least, nobody seemed to realise that they were a couple, as the school had been too busy gossiping about Hermione and Draco. Whatever the case, both of them would undoubtedly be bombarded with questions as the night went on.

The students then gathered around the perimeter of the dance floor to watch the first waltz of the evening. Three of the couples pulled one another closer and moved their feet smoothly to the rhythm; however Daphne and Harry reached awkwardly around one another only to chicken out at the last second and pull away, reaching around the other side, and repeating the whole process.

To Hermione it was quite endearing and sweet, but Draco thought that they should both just swallow their pride and get on with it; he rolled his eyes and sighed excessively to illustrate this. Hermione scolded him for his lack of sensitivity, but to give him credit he was still unaware of the details of what had happened between Harry and Daphne.

Eventually they found their bearings and shuffled and stumbled hesitantly around the floor for the first half of the piece of music. Both of them were red faced; Harry was simply out of breath and sweaty from the discomfort and nerves, and Daphne seemed more embarrassed than anything else, though Draco knew that she had had a lot of prior ballroom dance experience and was probably fuming at Potter for being so useless at leading.

Several more couples had glided onto the floor and begun dancing with their partners during the second half, and some smug Slytherin part of Draco was eager to infuriate Daphne even more. On the downside, doing so would mean having to take a very big step with Hermione by exposing them to judgemental eyes even more.

Draco hesitated. He questioned if his pride and reputation was worth missing out on time with Hermione. Merlin knows she probably wouldn't forgive him if he were distant and cold towards her tonight.

_Salazar forgive me_, he thought.

"Care to show them how it's done, M'lady?" He bowed and held his hand out to Hermione.

"Don't say that, it's far too polite for you," she smiled, taking his hand and leading the way onto the dance floor.

They slotted back into the familiar starting stance, clasping hands with Draco's free hand resting on Hermione's waist and hers on his shoulder. Both of their minds immediately went back to that day in the Three Broomsticks basement, and they shared a secret smile before Draco took the first step.

* * *

Across the floor Daphne and Harry simultaneously did a double take and stared in shock at how smoothly and easily their friends fit and danced together.

"You think they've done that before?" Daphne asked curiously.

"I don't have a bloody clue about anything about them anymore," Harry admitted with a frown. Aside from the hug he had witnessed on the balcony, and that awkward night in the library, he had never actually seen Malfoy and Hermione…like this…whatever _'this'_ was. Daphne's question had got him thinking too. Hermione had given him rushed details about their apparent impromptu dance lesson, but even so Harry would have expected there to still be a lot of awkwardness involved.

Having noticed Draco and Hermione too, Ron purposefully led Hannah over to Harry and Daphne.

"I'm not bloody seeing things am I?"

"No…" the other three said simultaneously.

Just then, the blond and brunette glided straight past the group of their friends, but neither of them noticed. They were moving together effortlessly around the crowded floor, never once breaking eye contact.

"You think he Imperiused her?" Ron asked. He and Hannah were still moving but remaining in the same place, so he could talk to Harry properly.

"No," Daphne said firmly. She wouldn't put such a thing past her Housemate, but his winning of the bet rested on the fact that Hermione had to willingly co-operate with each requirement. Had it not been for this, the Imperius Curse would certainly be the most believable explanation to what they were all seeing.

So far Draco had completed two out of the three requirements, and in a way Daphne was shocked and a little worried for herself that he had managed to do that much. But the night was still young, and there was every chance that the two of them would get into one of their usual disagreements, which would inevitably cause Draco to storm off, leave Hermione and lose the bet… Daphne pursed her lips. It was wishful thinking, but still entirely possible.

She chanced another glance at the unlikely pair and felt her heart drop. Okay maybe it was a little less possible than she originally thought.

"Er Daphne?"

She glanced up to see Harry looking at her, "Yeah?"

"You okay? You seem a bit distracted."

Daphne sucked back her nerves about the bet and put on her best Slytherin poker face. She remembered what Draco had told her about not pining for any comfort from Potter tonight; she just had to be her usual snippy self and see how she felt about him by the end of the night. Simple? Ha. Easier said than done.

"Yes, I'm fine." Daphne lied.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N:** There's quite a good chunk of Daphne/Harry in the next half (I know some of you wanted to see some more of them!) Sorry it ended pretty abruptly but there was no other reasonably acceptable place to end it!

Thank you everyone for your lovely reviews and comments, it always makes my day when I get a notification :')


	19. 25th December (Part 3)

**A/N: **So I've managed to get a lot of writing done for this recently (mainly because GoF came on TV so it got me inspired) and I can say for certain that this story will have 23 chapters in total.. so I hope if you're reading this then you'll stick with it until the end :)

Happy reading!

* * *

**It All Ends at Midnight**

**Christmas Day: At the Yule Ball – Part 3**

"Pansy, vhat are you looking at?" Viktor spun them around so he was facing in the direction Pansy was, but he didn't get much time to guess what it was that had caught her interest as she spun them back to their original positions very quickly.

Pansy didn't reply. She couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. Granger had still come after she caught Draco with her the other day; she had been more than convinced that Draco's move on her would have effectively been self-sabotage, knowing very well what a hot temper Granger had. She wasn't blind to how Hermione and Draco were looking at each other; it was almost sickening. But not as sickening as the fact that the couple's gazes meant one thing: Granger was going to kiss Draco at _her_ expense, and he wouldn't push her away and humiliate her like Pansy had first hoped.

She growled in frustration and stomped her foot, consequently stabbing Viktor's toes with her heels. He merely grunted in pain and let go of Pansy to tend to his injury. The release of his grasp was all Pansy needed to take off after Draco and Hermione as the song ended and the pair left the dance floor.

Hermione stood awkwardly beside a table as Draco went away to get drinks. It was all very unsettling; he was being borderline gentlemanly tonight, and Hermione wasn't entirely sure if she liked it or not. In a strange way she would have almost preferred it if the snarky blond ordered her to get drinks herself; she was plenty used to his mannerisms after all. He wasn't gone long, and Hermione was twiddling her fingers and glancing around as if she wasn't sure what to do when he returned.

Draco cocked an eyebrow as he handed her a glass, "You know you're stood right next to a chair, right?"

"I know," Hermione snapped unconvincingly. She collapsed into the chair a second later; effectively making her look even more foolish than before, but she attempted to mask her embarrassment.

Draco watched her with an amused smirk. Pansy's voice cut him off before he could say anything else.

"Well, well, well," she sneered, "I see you two have made up then."

"Looks like it," Draco matched her sneer and echoed Daphne's words from the day before during her and Pansy's brief reconciliation.

Hermione caught sight of Draco's expression and began to relax. She knew he wouldn't be able to keep his inner Snake hidden for long.

Pansy scowled at her.

"What do you want, Parkinson?" Draco asked wearily before she could say anything.

"Nothing from _you_," she replied icily. Her pug-like features focused on Hermione, who instinctively steeled herself for the impending slanging match.

"I didn't think you were quite so…_forgiving_, Granger," she commented.

Hermione didn't need to ask what Pansy was referring to. "What do you care if I am or not?"

Pansy scoffed, "I don't. I'm just saying that I thought you would've given Draco a hex or twenty up the backside for what happened before you'd even think about forgiveness."

Draco sank down in a chair beside Hermione. He watched this encounter intently, and realised that Pansy did have a point, not that he was complaining about how Hermione handled the situation.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "And you felt it necessary to follow us across the room just to say that?" Pansy was up to something, and Hermione was going to find out what.

"Not _just_ that," the dark-haired witch smiled slowly, "It kind of got me thinking; perhaps you have an ulterior motive hiding in that owl's nest you normally call hair."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Please. What motive could I possibly have? And do you really think I'd be able to keep it a secret if I did? I wasn't born a conniving git like you Slytherins were."

"Thank you," Draco smirked, apparently taking her words as a compliment.

Pansy tapped her chin thoughtfully. Either Granger was a better actress than she first gave her credit for, or the Gryffindor had no idea where she was headed with this conversation. Time to up the ante.

"Oh I don't know," she began, continuing to tap her chin as if she was simply thinking aloud as ideas came to her, "Maybe you wanted to keep things civil just so you could still have a date to avoid coming alone. Maybe you have a point to prove to someone. Maybe you made a deal with a friend and are simply working off that bloody pride and stubborn nature of yours to make sure you follow it through…"

Hermione felt her fists clench in her lap as the realisation hit her that Parkinson somehow knew about the discussion she had with Ginny all those days ago in the library. It was irrelevant just how long she had known or when she found out, but her interrogation now was obviously some kind of warning that she was onto her…but what did she hope to gain from it?

"Shut up, Parkinson," she spat, keeping her voice as collected and steady as possible.

Hermione felt Draco's cool and questioning gaze on her and she desperately fought the urge to look at him. If she made eye contact with him, he'd be able to read her expression like an open book, and he'd confront her, then she'd confess about her deal with Ginny and ultimately she and Draco would fight and… that's it! Parkinson must know that the deal would be at her own expense, and she was now doing everything in her power to stop it from happening altogether.

_Wait…_

Pansy knowing Hermione's part in the deal would be at her expense would mean she knew exactly what Hermione had to do, in which case, she would have overheard the conversation when it happened. She had known all along.

_But…_

That night when Hermione caught Pansy and Viktor kissing…the Slytherin had almost been acting like she had been expecting Hermione to be there - to catch them. That was the thing that convinced her to accept Draco's invitation in the first place, which meant that Pansy had on some level, influenced who her date was going to be.

_Why would she do that when she knew I was planning to kiss Draco?_

Hermione's brain was suddenly abuzz with a thousand questions. The plotting smirk Pansy had shot her way in Defence Against the Dark Arts that day… was she planning the Viktor situation right then?

"Feeling guilty, Granger?"

The girl's challenging gloat brought Hermione back to the Great Hall. She made to retort but bit her lip at the last second.

_Guilt… _

Hermione's thoughts took her back to yesterday by the lake. She'd had her reasons for letting him off easily, but what if on a subconscious level, Parkinson was right and she just wanted to keep him as a date for the deal? That thought made Hermione's stomach squirm uneasily. If he ever found out, he's just think she'd been using him this whole time…but she wasn't. Hadn't. Wouldn't.

Hermione almost missed the days where Draco Malfoy was just a convenience - a puppet for her to use in order to shame Parkinson. She hadn't even thought about how this would affect him, and now that she had, Hermione wished she'd never made that deal. But at the same time, she didn't want Parkinson to get what she wanted.

She rolled her eyes. What bloody perfect timing for her to suddenly get a conscience about this.

"Hermione?" Draco's smooth voice interrupted this time.

Pansy smirked, "See. She's obviously hiding something."

"Oh and I suppose you know what it is?" Draco countered, looking very unconvinced by Pansy's words.

Hermione stared at the raven-haired girl with wild, panicked eyes as the Pansy's mouth stretched into a sly smile.

"Actually now you mention it-"

"NO!" Hermione cut her off. She didn't want Draco to find out about the deal full stop. But she'd be damned if he heard it from Parkinson. Crap, now both of the Slytherins were looking at her with raised eyebrows. She needed to improvise something to back up her outburst.

"What is your problem Parkinson? Can you not leave me alone and refrain from making me feel bad about myself for one _sodding_ night? Is it just your life's mission to torment me or something?" She didn't even wait for a response as she rose from her seat and grabbed Draco's wrist, pulling him up too. "Come on, Draco."

"Err, all right then," Draco said uncertainly, "But since you didn't even touch your glass of Butterbeer that I so kindly bought for you, I expect you to get your own next time."

"'Bought' – at a school dance?"

"Okay fine I didn't have to pay for it, but still."

"Fine I'll get my own drinks from now on," Hermione sighed. "Now can we just get through the rest of the night without any more drama?"

Draco cocked an eyebrow, "Really, three whole hours with no drama in this place? That's a bit optimistic."

* * *

The next hour and a half flew by without a hitch, much to the surprise of Draco and Hermione. Then again, Hermione had made sure that no drama had the chance to unfold as she had practically dragged Draco back onto the dance floor as the Weird Sisters started their set.

He had protested for a good ten minutes, declaring that this was no longer dancing and more 'mindless jumping around to music', but he was forced to swallow his pride as Hermione was slowly submerged further and further into the crowd and away from him. He was taking no chances with the fine print of Daphne's requirement, so he gave in the next time Hermione 'danced' back over to try and persuade him to join her. She didn't much care for this type of thing herself, but as long as she was occupied and away from Parkinson, she was happy.

Draco awkwardly shuffled from foot-to-foot on the spot, half-heartedly popping his arms up and down to the beat of the music. Hermione couldn't help but laugh at him but in all fairness she probably looked just as ridiculous as he did.

As a couple of songs passed, the two of them seemed to ease up a little. The dance floor was packed with uninhibited students and ironically, she and Draco were the ones who stuck out, as they were the only people taking themselves seriously at this stage. At some point they had locked eyes and come to a silent agreement that maybe it would help if they joined forces. Draco took Hermione's hand and began spinning her and dipping her randomly to the music, not caring if it was off the beat or not (or acting like it, at least). They continued like this for the remainder of the band's set, and after that they were both thoroughly red-faced and parched.

Draco sent Hermione off for drinks and collapsed in a chair, throwing off his jacket in a flurry. He let out a sigh of relief as semi-cool air washed over him, and gratefully snatched the two glasses of Butterbeer that Hermione brought for him and drained them in no time, with Hermione following suit.

Both of them were bursting for the loo soon afterwards. Unfortunately for Draco, he was out before Hermione, and Potter and Weasley were lurking outside the boy's bathroom. They eyed Draco sceptically when they saw him.

"Is there something you want or do you two just get your kicks from creeping the hell out of people when they leave the bathroom?" He enquired dryly.

"What's going on Malfoy?" Ron asked.

"Care to elaborate, Mr Dungbomb?"

"With Hermione. You're acting different."

"Just spit it out, Weasel." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Well I get that you two are like friends now or whatever," Ron mumbled, "But you hardly spent any length of time together last week, and now tonight you're hardly apart."

Draco groaned and bit his tongue. He had been careless in failing to anticipate how this situation would put the twerp twins on high-alert meddling mode. As if being ogled by a couple hundred people wasn't taxing enough.

"It's called 'manners', Weasley," he said with a sneer, "she's my _date_ to this thing." He put extra emphasis on the word to make the Ron even more uncomfortable.

"Yeah but I mean _you _and _her_… and…what the bloody hell is going on Malfoy?" Ron exclaimed in frustration.

"Potter, care to explain what your pet orang-utan is babbling about?"

"Oi!" Ron said.

"Er…" Harry hesitated and glanced around the room wildly in the hopes of gaining some sort of inspiration. He hadn't been expecting Ron to say that. Then again, Ron wasn't aware of as much as Harry was, so it was possible that he was still adamant that the blond was up to something. Hell, even Harry was still a little suspicious despite everything Hermione had told him.

Draco waited for him to answer. He was taken aback when Potter turned to address his friend instead of him.

"Ron just calm down. Hermione _is_ Malfoy's date," Harry paused. That was a sentence he never thought he'd say. "I'm sure after tonight they'll go back to how they were last week. It's not like they're actually a couple or anything." He shot Draco a pointed look as he said this. It was almost as if to say 'Don't get any ideas'.

Draco smirked. Now that Potter had voiced his disapproval of the idea, the Slytherin had a desire to go against his wishes just to annoy him. However in this instance it would seem that Potter was in luck; Draco didn't know if he had the nerve to even begin to process the idea of getting into an actual committed relationship with Hermione. He had only just about accepted that he harboured certain…_affection_ for her; he was in no position to feel comfortable about putting a label on it.

Ron didn't catch the look Harry gave to Draco but he seemed content enough with his friend's words. This didn't stop him from shooting doubtful glares in Draco's direction though.

Luckily the lingering tension between the three wizards didn't last much longer as Hermione, Hannah and Daphne emerged from the girl's bathroom a minute later. Draco's eyebrows shot up as Hermione drew nearer. Something seemed different.

"Were you having a bloody party in there or something?"

"Draco, don't be silly," she replied without looking at him. She stopped, suddenly realising that he was standing near Harry and Ron. "Why is it every time I walk into a room you are always together? Do you have a secret friendship you're not telling me about?" she joked.

"NO!" Harry, Ron and Draco all shouted defensively.

Daphne sighed in disappointment and pushed her glasses up her nose. She'd been hoping that Draco would have gotten himself into a duel or slanging match with Harry and/or Ron if she hung around and stalled Hermione long enough. She'd even taught her the spell to apply make-up using magazines like she had done earlier. Luckily no other Slytherin was in there to see that; her pride had taken enough of a beating as it was.

"C'mon Potter let's go back inside," she said. Harry waved goodbye to Hermione and followed her.

Ron pretty much bolted after his friend, dragging Hannah with him. He was just eager to get away from Malfoy.

"Guess we should head back in too," Hermione said. She didn't look up to meet his gaze, almost as if she was suddenly self-conscious about something. Draco was about to question her on this but she was already walking away.

He tilted his head to the side as he caught sight of the Slytherin girl with the stupidly large watch. It was approaching ten thirty; there was just over an hour and a half to go before the Ball ended, and he'd be free of the bet.

It sure had been a long two weeks.

* * *

Daphne, Harry, Ron and Hannah entered the Great Hall, and almost immediately Hannah pulled Ron away to talk to some of the other fourth year Hufflepuffs, much to Daphne's chagrin.

She had been scraping by so far by making herself look like a fool and insisting that they follow Weasley and the Hufflepuff around everywhere, because she had soon realised that she didn't have a clue what to say to Potter. And now she was alone with him for the first time tonight.

"Er, do you want to dance?" she asked somewhat hopefully. At least they'd be occupied to an extent.

Hope was lost almost immediately as she saw Harry's face drop. He was polite enough to pretend to think about it before declining.

"Not really, I'm a bit tired."

"You don't have to lie for my sake, Potter."

His green eyes widened, "What? I wasn't-"

"There you go again," Daphne smirked. "You know it's times like this where I wonder if you should've been sorted into Slytherin."

Harry tensed as a memory of the day he was Sorted flashed through his mind. "What do you mean 'times like this'?" He asked, feeling a mixture of intrigue and dread.

Daphne shook her head, "No need to look so bloody terrified about it, we're not all evil, spoiled, deceitful, prejudiced, stuck-up, conniving, rude arseholes you know," she frowned, "Merlin my House really doesn't get any credit at all, does it?"

"Not really," Harry said.

"Well I can't deny that those are all common traits, but I suppose my point is that people have a tendency to assume every Slytherin is _all _of those things, which isn't true. There are one or two whack-jobs who tick every box, but the majority of us only represent three or four."

"Well based on that, I don't see how you could think I should be in Slytherin," Harry commented for argument's sake, but somehow he knew Daphne would elaborate anyway.

Daphne smirked and walked over to a table. She sat down, with Harry reluctantly following suit and taking the chair beside hers. He drummed his fingertips on his thigh.

"That's my point; that was a list of the _stereotypical_ traits people link to Slytherin. It can get a little frustrating when somebody you just met automatically thinks you're going to hex them for no reason and run off with their Galleons, and doesn't judge you based on traits that are valued in us like our ambition, determination and cunning."

Harry frowned, "But surely in a way the example you just described is what somebody associates with cunning?"

Daphne sighed in frustration, "But it's put with a negative spin on it." She hadn't realised that she had such passion for the misconceptions directed to her House, but maybe that was just something that the bet had made her think about. Daphne didn't really want to be put into the same category as the likes of Parkinson after everything that had happened.

"Sorry but I'm still not sure I get it. To me, you nicking someone's money would be a form of cunning."

"Fine. Let's play a game, Potter. I'm going to name the four Houses and then you say the first thing that springs to mind, okay?"

"Er, okay?" Harry said unsurely. He didn't know why Daphne was so het up about this, but it seemed to be something she cared about so he didn't protest. It reminded him of the way Hermione got so worked up about random things like House-Elf rights…

"Right," Daphne cleared her throat. "Gryffindor."

"Bravery," Harry answered without hesitation.

"Hufflepuff."

"Loyalty"

"Ravenclaw."

"Smart."

"Slytherin."

"Untrustworthy." Harry said. He clamped his lips shut immediately, building up the nerve to look at the blonde girl.

"There you go," Daphne said. She seemed triumphant but at the same time a little sad.

Harry didn't really know what to say. He raked a hand through his messy hair and continued to drum his fingers.

"Is that why you think Weasley is still sceptical about Malfoy and Granger?" Daphne asked suddenly.

"Hm?"

"Well you weren't thinking when we did that, so that must mean that's how you really feel about us Snakes."

"I suppose," he said, "but for the record I get your point about all of you not being the same. It was Malfoy that first came to mind when you said 'Slytherin', but I don't really think of you like that."

"Well I'm glad I made a point," Daphne half-smiled, "It still gets a bit grating when there's negative perceptions that people cast on every Slytherin as a group."

"But as long as you know you aren't like that, then what's the problem?" Harry asked. He was beginning to feel quite enlightened by this whole conversation, and maybe a little guilty at his initial reaction when Daphne mentioned that he should be in Slytherin.

Daphne rolled her eyes, "I can safely say that you never would've been in Ravenclaw, Potter. Okay, we're going to play that game again. This time you say the House names and I will demonstrate what I mean."

"Er, okay. Slytherin."

"Untrustworthy," Daphne mimicked Harry's answer for argument's sake.

"Hufflepuff."

"Sappy pushovers."

Harry winced a little at her response but carried on. "Ravenclaw."

"Nerds."

"Gryffindor."

"Stubborn wannabe heroes."

Harry actually flinched at her description and immediately felt the urge to defend himself; he didn't want the fame but it was just…given to him (for lack of a better phrase). And suddenly, he understood.

"Touch a nerve?" Daphne asked, feeling slightly smug that her message had finally hit home.

"A little."

"See? All I did was use the negative spins on the qualities the Sorting Hat looks for."

"Okay, okay," Harry smiled slightly to himself. He felt like Hermione had just lectured him, which was oddly comforting for familiarity's sake, but there was something quite strange and wrong about that at the same time. His smile wavered, but Daphne didn't notice.

"Oh yeah you wanted me to explain why I think you should've been a Slytherin, didn't I?"

Harry nodded and Daphne shot him a quick smile.

"Well, obviously because you were fibbing your arse off just now," she began, "you evidently couldn't give a crap about rules since you, Weasley and Granger always seem to find some new way of saving the bloody school every year, you can talk to snakes, and well you're obviously ambitious since you're in this Tournament and everything."

Harry felt his body tense all over. "All of those are out of context when you say it like that."

"How do you mean?" Daphne arched an eyebrow.

"Firstly, I was lying to be polite, I don't go looking for ways to 'save the school' but it always seems to fall to me to do it, I can't help that I can talk to snakes and I didn't put my name in that _bloody_ goblet." With each word Harry's voice seemed to get lower and angrier.

"Allow me to add 'prejudiced' to that list," she said shrewdly. "Honestly Potter I can't believe that you're still making excuses after that whole conversation we had about misconceptions of my House."

Harry's anger fizzled out slightly. Daphne didn't really know him well enough to be able to understand that he didn't and never would have put his name in the goblet. Merlin, even Ron couldn't understand at first and they'd been best friends since first year, so Harry decided he'd give her the benefit of the doubt on that one.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "but if it helps, I was making the excuses on a personal level. I didn't mean it to look like I just didn't want to be associated with Slytherin House."

"Hmm, I don't know if you're just lying again to make me feel better but I suppose I'll have to trust you and hex you later if you are lying." Daphne replied evenly.

There was a stretched silence, and she chewed her lip as she racked her brains to think of a new conversation topic. Once again, Harry noticed the very Hermione-like action and he frowned. He told himself he was just being paranoid and subconsciously looking for things that were similar to what his best friend would do since he had spotted one likeness between her and Daphne. What's more, they couldn't really be _that_ alike otherwise Malfoy would surely have made a move on Daphne in the past since he seemed to like Hermione.

"So do you like dancing then?" He asked. It was such a lame question but he had to start somewhere.

"What?"

"Well earlier when you asked if I wanted to. You seemed disappointed when I said no."

Daphne breathed a sigh of relief; she couldn't think of anything else they could talk about.

"I suppose I do, yeah. I was taught from a very young age so it just reminds me of home I guess," she shrugged, "But on the other hand I get the feeling that you despise it."

"I'm just not very good at it," Harry replied.

"Well, tell me some stuff you do like then," Daphne turned her body a little so she was face-to-face with him.

"Well er, Quidditch…" Harry began, but his voice trailed off when he realised he didn't have anything to add to the list.

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Typical boy. So there aren't any lessons you find particularly fun or interesting?"

Harry shrugged, "I like Defence Against the Dark Arts but I tend to get bored with everything else. Well either that or I just give up trying because I'm useless at it."

"Merlin, Potter you can't do that! If Defence is your best subject then that's most likely what you'll get a career in, and you need a lot of high O.W.L and N.E.W.T grades to get a job in that field."

"Are you, er…_academic_…then?" Harry seemed to hold his breath in anticipation of her answer.

Daphne eyes him curiously; he was acting very strange all of a sudden.

"Potter, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said unconvincingly. He and Daphne had already agreed just to remain civil once the Ball was over with, so there was no need for him to get too worked up about this.

"Alright then. Well yeah you could say that. I enjoy reading, but I prefer fiction to those enormous textbooks Granger insists on trawling through. I think Transfiguration and Potions are my strongest subjects. Why do you ask, anyway? It's weird conversation topic for a date."

"Don't call it a date. Please," Harry blurted out. Merlin that made him look like an arse, but it was getting too weird.

"Why? I know we aren't dat_ing_ but what else would you call it?"

Harry hesitated but Daphne rolled her eyes. "Come on, I'm not offended or anything. It takes a lot to wound a Slytherin…especially from a Gryffindor."

"I know you don't like her but you sort of remind me of Hermione sometimes and it kind of feels wrong because she's like my sister, so when you said 'date' it was kind of-"

"Bloody hell, why does everyone say that?" Daphne muttered to herself.

"What?"

"Zabini said the same thing to me a while ago," she said, remembering that that was also the day the bet had begun. "He said it was because I went all 'bookish'. Is that the reason you say that too or is there anything else?"

Harry thought about his answer for a moment, mainly because an angry glint had appeared in Daphne's eyes. "Its just little habits that you have I guess, like rolling your eyes and chewing your lip. Hermione does those things a lot."

Daphne, who had been chewing her lip at that moment, released it slowly and her stomach squirmed. Oh Salazar this couldn't mean that she had actually started to like Potter had it? She couldn't; she knew next to nothing about him.

"Oh…"

Harry looked at her with narrowed eyes, "Look, I know you don't like her, but she's my best friend so I don't want you to say anything negative about her when I'm around."

Daphne sighed, "This isn't about Granger." That wasn't entirely false; since she still had her own prejudices against Muggleborns still firmly engraved in her skull – no thanks to her parents… her stupid parents…

"Then what is it about?"

"My bloody parents always compare me to my little sister and I'm sick of it!" The confession came out so suddenly that Daphne hadn't realised it had even been bothering her until now.

Harry blinked several times, "How do you mean?"

"Astoria's really sporty; she's amazing at Quidditch, swimming… they just can't accept that I'm not like her. Plus I'm terrified of water, and I just … No, I don't want to talk about it," she said sharply. Daphne realised that they had somehow reached a point where once again, Harry would be comforting her. There was no way she was going to let her guard down around him again - look where that landed her on Saturday. It was like an endless cycle, so she was sticking to what she knew best and bottling up her emotions for the rest of the night.

At least she now knew that she and Harry would never work; she reminded him of Hermione too much and she would constantly be using him for a shoulder to cry on.

Now she was dreading the prospect of having to kiss him even more.

* * *

Draco caught sight of Daphne and Harry from across the room, where he and Hermione were back on the dance floor. It was getting late now, so the Hall was much less crowded and therefore quieter than it had been a couple of hours ago. Consequently, that meant less prying eyes and whispered comments; it felt just as easy being with Hermione as it had in the basement, and on the balcony. The Slytherin heard her sigh in contentment, and despite being all too aware of the remaining onlookers, he smiled to himself.

The music was considerably calmer now, and he and Hermione were simply holding one another and swaying gently. It would have been enough to rock them both to sleep should they be the only two people in the room, but Draco knew he had to remain vigilant; he still had a bet to win after all.

He caught Daphne's eye and wasn't surprised to see that her perfected poker face was masking any sign of discomfort or worry in her expression. He stared into her brown eyes intensely in the hope that she would crack and let on exactly how well it was going with Potter. Unfortunately, Hermione had lifted her head from his shoulder and spun then round the opposite way so he was forced to back out of their stare-off.

"What are you looking at?" she asked.

"Greengrass and Potter."

"It's not polite to stare, Draco," Hermione gave him a disapproving look and wagged her finger.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Oh come on, you can't deny that it's quite the spectacle…no pun intended." He smirked.

"How do you mean?"

"Just…them…together. It wasn't exactly a match I would have anticipated happening."

"And what, you expected _us_ to end up here together, tonight?" Hermione snorted, too caught up in how impossible that sounded to notice how Draco tensed in her arms.

He just laughed humourlessly in response. "Well you know, convenience and all that…"

Hermione's expression fell, and she started chewing her lip as if contemplating how to respond. Draco bit his tongue; he shouldn't have said that.

"Are you okay?" Her question took him completely off guard; he'd half been expecting her to scold him for still labelling her as a 'convenience'.

"What?" His voice was exasperated and rough.

"It's just, you've been sort of tense tonight, I guess, like something's bothering you."

Draco focused all of his energy in following Daphne's example and masking his reaction.

"I don't want to talk about it." He said bluntly. Merlin knows that wasn't a lie!

"Is this the same thing that was bothering you at the weekend, the thing you wouldn't tell me?" Hermione's voice had an edge to it now, and Draco didn't like that one bit.

"Something like that," he sighed.

"Is that all?" Hermione asked.

"Again with all of the questions? Did we go back in time to last week when you interrogated me after I asked you to help me with Charms?" Draco exclaimed through gritted teeth. His outburst made Hermione recoil slightly, something that made his stomach tie itself in knots.

"Sorry, it's just that I didn't know if being here with me like this made you uncomfortable."

"Where the bloody hell did you get that from?" Draco was beginning to feel hot under the collar all of a sudden.

"Well I know we haven't been quite so…public before, and I know that you're probably going to get a lot of stick from the other Slytherins. To tell the truth I'm getting annoyed with everyone always staring at us, I've had half a mind all night to tell them just to mind their own bloody business."

Draco was oblivious to the fact that Hermione's gaze was fixated on Pansy as she said this. She was obviously sticking around purely to try and psyche Hermione out and challenge her to see if she would actually go through with it. Her Gryffindor tenacity had been determined to do so, but seeing Draco's reserved demeanour had made her doubt herself slightly.

Draco smirked. "Since when do you care what other people think?"

_Since my dignity is on the line because I'm trying to prove someone wrong, _she thought.

Draco pulled away slightly and guided her chin with his fingers so she was looking at him.

"Just ignore them. Imagine that we're the only ones here. That's how I've been surviving tonight. If I didn't then I'd surely have been kicked out of here for telling the brain-dead gawpers to sod off and to stick their wands where the sun doesn't shine, lest I do it for them if they'd stop staring."

"You've such a way with words," she said dryly.

"So I've been told."

They continued to dance and Hermione did her best to pretend that nobody else was in the room, which proved to be more than difficult as her mind was abuzz with thoughts about her deal with Ginny and Parkinson and Daphne and Harry who were sat nearby, not to mention Ron, who remained oblivious to everything that had happened.

But then there was Draco, who against all of Hermione's doubts, had remained by her side the entire night without letting the peer-pressure get the better of him. Before she left the common room she'd been delayed by having a minor panic attack with imagined scenarios whereby Draco would turn on the rude and arrogant façade to keep up appearances and keep her at arm's length or something to that effect. There was less than an hour before the Yule Ball was over, and the blond Slytherin she used to hate was still with her, and he was smiling down at her with a smile that she was pretty sure only a handful of people would have witnessed before.

Hermione finally gathered all of her courage and kept all of her focus onto Draco's warm grey eyes. This was it. Her first kiss. There was no backing out now. She still had to step onto her tiptoes despite having small heels on her shoes. Her heart was pounding in her chest like it was a rogue Bludger. Godric forgive her for being in a position where she actually _wanted_ to kiss him: probably the most unpredictable Slytherin there was. She must be out of her mind.

The next few seconds seemed to go by incredibly slowly; so slowly that Hermione was aware of every tiny hint of movement that occurred in that make-or-break action. As she leant forwards, Draco's eyes widened, so shocked by what was happening that he actually flinched away slightly and almost pulled out of her grip, but it was too late for Hermione to back out.

The distance separating them felt much larger than it appeared to be, but maybe that was because Hermione's eyes were now closed and there was every chance that Draco was doing everything he could to create even more space between them. She couldn't even hear the music or the chatter of students around her any longer, instead only able to listen to the increasingly panicked and nervous thumping of her heart in her chest and ears.

Finally, her lips met his.

In reality everything must have happened in the blink of an eye, for Draco's mouth was unresponsive and still at the first touch. Hermione didn't dare move her own mouth; instead she just took in the plethora of new and wonderful sensations for a few more hour-long seconds. It was simple flesh-on-flesh contact, but Hermione felt butterflies in her stomach and her whole body felt lighter as she took note of everything; how feather-soft, firm and full Draco's lips were – three adjectives she never would have used if she were asked to hazard a guess of what they would be like. They were warm too, which somehow made the blood in Hermione's body coarse through her veins with a pleasant heat to match Draco's.

She didn't know what made her do it, but that alien but exhilarating feeling re-lit the Gryffindor courage in her belly. She delicately and questioningly pressed her lips a little further into his, timid through lack of experience but at the same time very determined. There was a pause, and Hermione counted five intense beats of her rapid heart before Draco moved.

His grip on her waist tensed, and she came crashing down to earth as the scenarios she had unwillingly thought of before she left the common room seemed to be unfurling before her eyes. _Oh Merlin he can't push me away. Not now…_

But he didn't. He puller her closer, and the next thing Hermione felt was a warm hand sliding up her body and up to her cheek, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake; the other still snaked around her waist. And then he reciprocated her kiss, and all of the anxiety clouding Hermione's head cleared, and the giddy lightness she felt before replaced it. She clasped her hands around the back of his head, toying with the soft strands of platinum hair that rested on his neck above his Dracula collar as her rational thoughts were taken over by natural instinct.

She had been anticipating Draco to be a good kisser, but she told herself not to rely on such a notion, as she had no other frame of reference. Despite this, she just had a feeling that the rumours were true, because there was nothing hesitant or awkward about what Draco was doing.

Each one of his movements was calculated and controlled, but at the same time, so fluent and natural. She followed his lead as their lips moved against one another and praying to the Founders that she was doing it right. She noticed that Draco seemed to have remembered that this was her first kiss, as he accommodated her uncertainty by applying the perfect amount of pressure to make her comfortable. His lips always met hers with a gentle and tender contact, but there was always a small amount of force behind each touch that was meaningful without it being gruff or overdone.

Hermione felt weightless, and she unknowingly leant even more into Draco's body. Her heart fluttered as every one of her senses (except for sight) was filled with him. His scent, touch, taste, and even the sound of his breathing made her head spin. She was no expert, but this certainly hadn't been the kind of kiss he had shared with Parkinson the other day.

She let out a small sigh of contentment that only they could hear as the kiss ended and she smiled against his lips as Draco gently stroked Hermione's cheek with the pad of his thumb as he drew his back straight once again, and slowly their surroundings drifted back into Hermione's senses. The gentle music and chatter filled her ears and the dance floor and Great Hall reappeared into sight.

It had felt like she and Draco were the only two people in the room, but now Hermione felt too aware that there must be several pairs of eyes on them in that moment.

Unfortunately, the Slytherin in her arms was too. A glance up at his face was more than enough proof of that. His eyes were icy and cold, set into a hard and angry stare as he looked at nothing in particular; his nostrils were flared slightly and his jaw was tight and clenched.

"Draco?"

The sound of her voice snapped him out of his trance, and he recoiled from her so violently as his eyes fell on her that he was torn from her grasp. He staggered away and raked both of his hands through his hair, causing it to become dishevelled and messy. He was breathing hard.

"No…" he said in a scratchy voice, though Hermione didn't know whom he was addressing; her or himself.

Draco's tongue flicked out to lick his lips, where Hermione's taste still lingered.

"No," he repeated, sounding much firmer and decisive.

Hermione frowned and reached out an arm to touch him but he flinched away.

He stared at her with wide eyes, letting out a few more ragged breaths before the harsh mask and a deep frown glazed over them again and he pushed past her.

And then time sped up again.

"No!" He exclaimed loudly, but not loudly enough to alert the whole Hall. It was only enough to travel to the ears of Hermione, Pansy, Harry, Daphne, Ron and Hannah, whom were in the closest vicinity to them. But in some ways, that made it worse.

Draco marched frantically over to the table where he had left his jacket and scooped it up in his arms before he kept moving further and further away from Hermione until he was out of the Hall completely.

It all happened so damn quickly that she felt like this was all a figment of her imagination. She just stood there, frozen to the spot on the dance floor, stunned and confused. Oh Godric this was just what she'd been afraid of; Draco must be having a tantrum because she wasn't a good enough kisser. That had to be the reason why he was acting this way.

Then the whole illusion was shattered when an outburst from one Slytherin brought Hermione out of her trance.

"Oh my God, I actually won?!"

Hermione's eyes fell on Daphne, whose expression showed a mixture of joy and shock. This soon morphed into one of horror and regret as she gasped, her brown eyes widening as they met Hermione's.

_Won? What did that mean…?_

The Hall seemed to become void of sound and life once again as Hermione's vision became blurred. Time seemed to pass slower than ever as the first toll of the clock in the distant tower reverberated in Hermione's ears for what seemed like an eternity.

_Dong…_

A shrieking laugh brought her back once more. It was Parkinson. She began hurling insults Hermione's way but she had zoned out again.

_Dong…_

She had to get out of there before she completely broke down in front of everyone. Hermione stumbled on shaking legs off the dance floor before gathering her bearings and haring out of the Hall.

_Dong…_

Harry spoke to her as she passed but she didn't hear. She reached the stairs… those _bloody_ stairs, and started her ascent.

_Dong._

One of her shoes fell off halfway up the first flight, so Hermione grabbed it whilst yanking the other off and continuing her journey to Gryffindor Tower.

_DONG._

As soon as she was out of sight of the Hall, Hermione ran the rest of the way barefoot, fuelled by adrenaline and determination. She could only be thankful that the castle seemed deserted. The sound of the clock grew louder with every chime as the harsh reality of the situation set in.

The memory of catching Pansy and Viktor in the library crossed her mind, and she remembered that Draco had been the one to tell her to go there in the first place.

_He was in on it too…_

_DONG!_

She slammed the door as she reached her dormitory and slowly sank down it to the floor. Yanking the barrette from her hair, she hurled it across the room, where many of the crystals smashed as it collided with her chest of drawers and finally to the floor. The central indigo crystal remained fixed to the accessory, though, and that delicate colour was all Hermione could see through her limited vision as she allowed the tears to fall down her face.

* * *

_Dong._

Draco sat on the floor of his dormitory, surrounded by piles of battered textbooks, which he had been taking out the majority of his aggression on. The anger was drained from him now, and he was left alone with his regrets and his feelings.

_Dong._

With the eighth chime of the clock mocking him, he wished he could have a time turner to erase the last few minutes, or better yet, the last few hours before the Ball had started. He could tell himself what was going to happen, and make sure that kiss was erased from history.

It had caught him completely off guard, and his body had betrayed him by returning her kiss when his head had initially been screaming at him to push her away because it wasn't the right time.

_Dong._

But he couldn't push her away, not after last time. Draco didn't regret kissing her back; hell it was probably one of the best and most meaningful kisses he'd ever had… he just regretted that it happened when it did. He was so angry with himself.

_Dong._

He also regretted letting the bombardment of guilt and emotions get the better of him once that moment of bliss was over, and reality set in. Feeling her smile; hearing her sigh and feeling her body pressed against his… it was all too much. The amount of trust she must have put in him to initiate her first kiss then and there, and he had thrown it all back in her face.

_Dong._

Draco buried his face in his hands. Merlin, she actually did trust him. What's more, everything that had just happened hinted that there was more to it than trust. She had feelings for him. It was one thing for him to assume from an incomplete confession, and to be told by Potter, but what happened tonight proved it more than mere words ever could.

The Slytherin tried to go over his train of thought in that rushed moment when he left her there. He remembered assuming that she would want to make their 'relationship' something of a real thing; something more than friendship. But he couldn't let her do that. Not before he could start afresh with her and whilst the bet was still going on.

So he ran to save her from himself.

_Dong._

It was midnight. Draco had lost the bet. But what stung even more was the knowledge that he had probably lost Hermione too…and all because he was trying to do what was best for her.

Irony was such a bitch.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N: **Sorryyy but I knew how the Ball was going to end before I even starting writing this. But in the words of Team StarKid; it's not over yet!

See you in a few days for the next chapter :)


	20. 26th December

**A/N: **Thank you so so much for the feedback on the last chapter! So I guess we're in the home-stretch now... I don't know whether to be happy or sad about that...

Happy reading!

* * *

**A Deduction**

Hermione's eyes felt heavy and sore as she opened them on Boxing Day morning. She had barely slept a wink, with so many memories of the Ball taunting her repeatedly throughout the night. There were moments when she began to drift into a light sleep as the dizziness and blissful recollection of her first kiss came to the forefront of her thoughts. It had been perfect in every way, which only made it all the more devastating when the memory played on, and she relived the shock of Draco leaving her there, jolting her wide awake again.

It seemed to bother her more that they'd had an audience to witness the entire thing. Of course she still would have been equally upset, hurt and angry if it had happened where there was no one else around, but now Hermione felt as if her integrity and pride had been stripped away, because she knew how quickly gossip spread around the castle. Everybody would know what happened soon enough, and Hermione would be forced to deal with something she usually did everything in her power to avoid. Embarrassment.

She always played safe to achieve this. She never rode a broom again after their first flying lesson. She hated the feeling of the staring children and secret whispers that were directed at her, and somehow she just knew that she would have to relive that as soon as she left the dormitory. She had pretty much betrayed her whole House by going to the Ball with a Slytherin and preached to Harry about how different Draco seemed, only to be left out on a limb in the middle of the dance floor after her first kiss.

She had taken a gamble for the first time in her life on him, and now she felt like a fool, not only for that but also for failing to figure out what had been going on with the Slytherins this entire time right under her nose. There had clearly been a great deal of manipulations and lies leading up to that moment last night, but for what purpose? Hermione easily worked out that Daphne and Draco had to be the centre of it all; it couldn't just be coincidence that they just so happened to be the only two Slytherins taking Gryffindors to the Ball, and Daphne had exclaimed that she had 'won' as soon as Draco had walked away.

She didn't, however, know where Pansy came into this, nor did she know exactly what it was that Daphne had 'won'. Hermione groaned; in order to get answers, she would have to get out of bed and put herself into the public eye. Great.

Attempting to delay the inevitable even more, she rolled over in bed to try and gather her thoughts. She looked down at the floor, where the broken barrette lay amongst a sea of small crystals and chipped pieces of blue metal. It looked like a fallen star constellation against the dark wood floorboards. Her heart contracted, and a lump formed in Hermione's throat. She wanted to cry and scream at the same time.

She tore her gaze away and shifted to lie on her back, looking up at the ceiling. The longer she lay there, the more she started to doubt her own sense of judgement. There were times when Draco's words and actions had been so damn genuine that she had questioned how much of a bad person he truly was. Hell, even Ginny seemed to have been taken in by his act, if it was an _act_, that is.

Whatever the case, Hermione now had to live with the fact that Draco had affected her. She had grown to understand him. She had _feelings_ for him. But how could she when he was involved with some elaborate scheme with Daphne? There was no way he could have ever felt the same about her if he insisted on following the plot through to the end.

_But he tried to kiss me at the Three Broomsticks, and afterwards he said so many things. Just a couple of days ago he told me he had no ulterior motive for that._

'_I don't bloody deserve you!"_

Hermione mentally kicked herself: firstly for being sympathetic of him and inadvertently letting him get away with what he did, and secondly for not jumping at the chance to ask him if he had said that when the opportunity presented itself. Maybe if she knew then she would be able to guess exactly how sincerely involved he had been into whatever had been going on.

But as long as there was doubt in her mind about whether Draco said that or not, she wasn't going to let her heart overrule her head this time. She wouldn't let her damaged feelings feed into her own self-pity; instead it was all building up to a ball of anger and fire in her stomach.

She threw off the bed covers decisively and headed for the dormitory door. She needed answers.

* * *

Draco's eyes fluttered open after a restless night, and before his thoughts caught up to anything else he was hit with an uncomfortable twisting sensation in his heart and stomach; something that sleep had made him forget about and something he hadn't felt since last night.

But for some reason, it felt so much more intense and real than it had done before. He was suddenly overcome with a denial-induced rage.

Draco slunk out into the common room and started pacing frantically. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice Daphne walk into the room a minute or two later.

"Sup, Malfoy, can't handle the fact that that bet was yours for the taking and you lost…to a girl?" she baited, feeling decidedly relieved and smug this morning.

"Shut up." Draco's voice was low, dangerous and a little fragile at the same time.

"All right all right, I'll save the gloating… for now. So tell me, why the hell did you run off like that? Was Granger really that bad a kisser?"

Draco didn't answer, so Daphne switched tactic.

"If you were going to throw a hissy fit about kissing her then why'd you do it? You could have just pushed her away when she leant in."

"It happened too quickly."

Daphne scoffed, "Still didn't have to kiss her back though, did you?"

Draco grinded his teeth and didn't reply. He really wasn't in the right frame of mind to be bombarded with questions. In that moment he couldn't even rationalise what he'd done. All he could think about was how badly Hermione must be hurting now and his heart ached at the thought. Everything was so scary and real and Draco felt exposed and vulnerable, though he didn't know why.

"Or maybe you liked it." Daphne laughed as she saw Draco's eyes flare momentarily. "You bloody liked kissing the Mudblood didn't you?"

"It didn't mean anything," Draco said slowly. He was staring hard at the floor lest he look at Daphne and let on how contorted his face was with a torrent of denial, confusion, anger, and sadness all swirled together around his body and mind.

"Ha. Are you saying that to me or yourself, Malfoy?" Daphne continued, completely oblivious to the bubbling rage rising in Draco.

"IT DIDN'T MEAN _ANYTHING, _ALRIGHT?!_" _Draco roared. He advanced towards Daphne threateningly and the smile fell from her face. She had never known him to get so provoked so easily, and even when he lost his temper in the past, he had never exploded in the way he did just then.

She frowned. "Malfoy, what's going on with you?"

"NOTHING. I'm _fine."_

"Yeah and I'm the bloody Princess of Unicorn Fairies," Daphne rolled her eyes. "Come on, you're clearly feeling bad about leaving Granger standing there like an idiot. You said so yourself that the bet was messing with your head so just admit it. You as good as told me yesterday that -"

"I don't feel _ANYTHING_ for her." He said slowly, defiantly before she could finish.

Daphne frowned, "But Malfoy, yesterday you said-"

"TO HELL WITH WHAT I SAID YESTERDAY!" He shouted. "THAT WAS DIFFERENT!"

"How?!" Daphne asked exasperatedly.

"It just is! And what about _you_, anyway? Why aren't you feeling like this? Because I remember what you said to me yesterday about Potter."

The cogs in the witch's head started turning. Aside from the obvious, what was so different about yesterday that was making Draco act so differently? He had been so calm and dare she think it, _sincere _when he spoke about Granger less the twenty-four hours ago.

"Tell me, how is it I'm supposed to be feeling, Draco?"

He hesitated before responding, and a nervous, calculating shadow passed through his eyes.

"All of that shit I said to you… it makes no bloody sense when I think about it now. It feels too real. Too complicated."

"What does?!" Merlin even when Draco was being open he was bloody difficult to communicate with.

"EVERYTHING!" He had no idea to explain this when he didn't even know what it all meant. "So why don't you understand? You should feel this way too, about Potter…"

Something finally clicked in Daphne's head.

"I think I know why I don't feel like you do."

"Tell me." Draco said. He seemed calmer now, but still very tense.

She took a deep breath. "Because… because yesterday at the Ball, I realised that I don't actually have feelings for Potter like I told you I might."

"So?" he demanded.

"So, that's what's different. You have feelings for Granger and this is how any of us Slytherins would react if we were in your position. You must feel conflicted in your head because of all of the prejudices you were brought up with. Part of you must feel like you're betraying your parents, and even yourself to some extent."

"Care to explain why I've been sailing through these past couple of weeks just fine then?"

Daphne sighed. "I'm not bloody sorting your life out for you. Figure it out yourself." She turned to walk away but turned back when she realised that he had helped her yesterday with her Potter-dilemma. She owed him at least one favour. It was a totally Hufflepuff move but Daphne couldn't deny that she was starting to feel sorry for Draco.

"But if I were to hazard a guess… I'd say it's very likely that you've been comfortable and accepting of your feelings until now because the bet was in place. If anybody questioned your actions towards Granger you wouldn't think twice about being honest with your answer because the bet required you to interact with her and befriend her. You could blame everything on the bet, but now that it's over, you don't have that security. I think everything seems so much more real now because it _is _more real_. _This is all you, Malfoy, and you can't accept that the friendship, the truce, maybe even the kiss still seems genuine now when you aren't required to pretend otherwise. Without the bet you just feel like you two are just, _taboo_ I suppose: Gryffindor and Slytherin, Muggleborn and Pureblood."

A moment of clarity and realisation softened Draco's features, but the hard exterior returned just as quickly as it had disappeared.

"You know what, this is all of YOUR bloody fault, Greengrass." He spat.

Daphne's eyebrows shot up. "See, this proves my point. You can't keep blaming other people for this! Just grow a pair and admit that-"

"NO!" he yelled over her. "I feel the blame is justified. You're the one who involved me in this bet in the first place. This never would have happened if you'd kept your mouth shut and just left me alone. You made this mess, so why am I the one being punished for it?"

"Well, I never forced you to agree to it." She said coldly.

That did it. Draco growled in frustration and barged past her.

"STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" He shouted behind his shoulder as he headed towards the common room door.

"Running away isn't going to solve anything, you know!" Daphne shot back.

"PISS OFF!" The door opened and slammed shut, and he was gone.

Outside, Draco felt all of the anger and denial drain out of him when he realised that Daphne was right. He was on his own now, responsible for his own feelings with no bet to lay the blame on.

He never would have imagined that having the security of the bet there would have led him to delude his own mind. He felt like he had to learn to accept his feelings all over again, and he didn't know if he could cope with that now, not when it seemed so _wrong_ all of a sudden.

Whatever these feelings turned out to be, Draco wouldn't admit to having them freely now that he had to deal with the fact that all of his future actions would be under his own steam; he'd be more reserved than he had been as of late when it came to Hermione. He couldn't afford to be as reckless as he had been when he hugged her on the balcony in prime view of everyone.

She deserved someone better than him; someone who would protect her instead of hurt her. That's all he seemed to be good at.

A plan slithered its way into Draco's thoughts. It was a foolproof way of making Hermione move on from him. He just didn't know if he was prepared for the repercussions of it.

* * *

The sound of post-Christmas merriment and happy chatter drifted to Hermione's ears as she reached the door that lead into the common room. She lifted her chin, readying herself for whatever reaction was waiting for her.

She took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Maybe it was just her paranoia but she could swear that the noise level dropped significantly as she stepped into the room. She put on an indifferent façade and scoped out Harry and Ron as quickly as she could. They were at the far-end of the room playing Wizard's Chess, with Ginny sitting beside Harry and watching on.

She made her way over, doing her best not to look anyone in the eye, but Lavender Brown stepped in front of her.

"Merlin Hermione, are you okay? No offence, but you look like hell."

"Yes I'm perfectly aware of what I look like, Lavender," she said curtly, "now if you'll excuse me-"

Hermione tried to side step around the other girl but she blocked her way again.

"Have you been crying?" she questioned loudly. Hermione's fists clenched but she managed to keep them firmly by her sides. As if enough people weren't staring anyway and now Lavender seemed to be making it her mission to make her look like a total idiot.

"No." Hermione lied, knowing that if she admitted it then she'd never escape Lavender. She wasn't blind to the amount of exchanged whispers that were shared in her denial.

Lavender frowned. "Are you sure, because to me it looks like –?"

"You know, I don't have time to talk, Lavender," she said, pushing around the other witch and marching over to where Harry, Ron and Ginny were sat.

"Well excuse me for trying to be nice!" Lavender sneered after her but Hermione didn't give her the satisfaction of turning back.

She was trembling when she reached her friends, though she was unable to pinpoint which emotion caused it.

"Don't pay any attention to _her_," Ginny shot a scathing look at the blonde witch, "I would've come to your rescue but I haven't seen you since before… you know it happened," she lowered her voice so only their small group could hear, "None of us have, so we didn't really know how you'd want to approach things."

"It's okay, Gin. I understand. But I'm not exactly in the mood for having to explain myself to every bloody person in the school if you get my drift."

"Completely." Ginny said.

There was a moment of silence, and Hermione could tell that all of her friends were dying to ask her questions or put forth their opinions on the matter. She also knew that none of them dared to do so for fear of her reaction. For some reason, all of their pussyfooting around made her even more annoyed. She rolled her eyes.

"You lot are so transparent, but to be blunt I'd appreciate it if you'd stop looking at me like I'm about to break or burst into tears at any moment."

The three other Gryffindors exchanged sceptical glances at her clipped tone. Ron was the one to speak first.

"Well no offence Mione, but you do kind of look like you're going to cry," he said tentatively.

Hermione stared at him hard for a moment but suddenly she felt her anger start to dissolve and she was overcome with the urge to do just that by the mere suggestion of it. It was funny how that worked; kind of like the countless times she had remained together and composed until someone gave her a hug, and then the floodgates were almost impossible to keep closed.

She could feel the tears in her eyes pooling up, threatening to spill over at any moment. She needed to get out of the common room to save face in front of the students in Gryffindor Tower, a lesser motive that closely followed the primary one which was a complacent refusal to be seen crying in public over Draco Malfoy.

She only had enough composure in her voice to choke out one sentence. "Harry, come with me please." She turned and left the room without waiting for a response or acknowledgement of her request.

Hermione felt bad for the others, especially when she heard Ron mumble something like "Did I say something to upset her?" but the fact was that Harry was the only one out of the three who could help her get some answers.

He emerged from the portrait-hole shortly after she had done and the two of them set off down the staircase. Hermione had no set destination in mind but aimless walking seemed adequate enough since there were still fewer students around than usual.

"I mean it Harry, I've had enough of bloody scheming, lying, two-faced arseholes so I'd appreciate it if you'd just come straight out with whatever you have to say," Hermione said bluntly as they reached the second floor and neither of them had yet to say a word.

Harry, whose first thought had been to point out that she should speak first since she invited him along, bit back this response as a more pressing topic had presented itself; one that wouldn't lead to Hermione biting his head off for giving her sass; it was a win-win.

"What do you mean by 'scheming and lying'?"

"Honestly Harry, you were there! You must have heard what Daphne said."

"What, that stuff about winning? What's that to do with Malfoy, and how do you know he's been scheming and lying, and what about?"

Hermione turned to look at him with raised eyebrows, "Really Harry, you can shed no light onto this whatsoever? I only asked you to come because I figured Daphne might've let slip some telling information so we can find the answers together."

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly.

Hermione's shoulders slumped, "No _I'm_ sorry. None of this is your fault. It's just so confusing."

"Okay, well how about we go and find a place to sit and you can explain about this scheme or plot the Slytherins have been carrying out?"

Hermione nodded and without thinking lead her friend to the bank by the lake where she and Draco had talked the other day. She didn't even realise until she had sat down in the same spot, and tears started to well up in her eyes again.

She took several deep breaths to calm herself down and gather her thoughts, and then she proceeded to tell Harry everything she had worked out about the night she walked in on Pansy and Viktor in the library; how she deduced that Draco was part of it and reminding him of all of their strange behaviour before those moments. She told him in more detail about the day in the Three Broomsticks, the barrette and their conversation on Christmas Eve, and by the end of it she was ready to hex the next person she saw with the fresh build up of anger and confusion that pulsed through her veins.

"Hell, you were watching, you would have seen how rapid the change in Draco's whole demeanour seemed before, during and after the kiss!"

"Er yeah, I wasn't particularly watching in the 'during' part but I did see how abrupt it all was. I don't really know anything more than what you know as far as the whole scheming goes; you can only really ask Malfoy for that."

Hermione sighed in disappointment. "So you didn't think to question Daphne after she said that stuff?"

"Of course I did, but she made a swift exit whilst I was distracted trying to stop you from leaving."

She bit her lip and started pulling up fistfuls of grass in agitation. "Harry be honest with me, do you think I was a complete idiot for trusting him so much?"

Harry hesitated before responding. It was always questionable territory whenever Hermione told him to be honest with her. Sometimes she thrived off his opinion and used it to her advantage, but other times she wasn't mentally prepared enough for what he had to say, and often became defensive. But in this instance, Harry knew he had to comply, as she was feeling very betrayed and hurt right now.

"As much as it pains me to say it, I'm in two minds about that. On the one hand, you know how I've never liked Malfoy and never really trusted him; these last couple of weeks have been no exception. If you want an outsider's opinion looking in on how Malfoy was with you at the start of the Ball, Ron and I were more than convinced he had you under some kind of spell."

"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked.

"Just because of how he was _with you_," Harry repeated weakly, not knowing how to explain. "He was being his usual arse-y self before you arrived, and then when you two were dancing it was like he was a completely different person. He looked relaxed and…happy. Looking back on it it's pretty easy to assume that he was putting on a show for whatever he and Daphne were up to, but it was the kind of happiness no-one can fake. It was real. Then Ron and I see him outside the bathroom and he morphed back into the same old prat."

"Oh Godric Harry I'm going around in bloody circles here. Please tell me something that will actually help me make up my mind about how I should be feeling about this. I bloody hate his guts right now, but every so often a thought like that pops into my head and I start to question his involvement in whatever this was."

Harry paused again before responding. "I'm going to begrudgingly admit that Malfoy does have some degree of affection for you. I think he's a conniving bastard for putting you through all of this, but as much as I want to be biased, I don't know details about how much deceit was involved or of the actual scheme. For all we know, he had never intended you to get hurt, or maybe he didn't even care at the time. But that doesn't excuse the fact that he didn't back out of it, and even his so-called 'feelings' are questionable because of that.

I feel very protective of you, so I'd feel very wary about you giving him another chance; he just seems to keep hurting you and you deserve better than that. I would never think you of as an idiot in terms of all of this since I ended up getting sucked in by Daphne too."

"So what you really mean by that is that you don't want to call _yourself_ an idiot," Hermione said with a brief smile.

"You got me," Harry grinned in return, but their happiness was short-lived as the disembodied sentence returned to Hermione's thoughts.

"_I feel guilty about what you said because I don't bloody deserve you!"_

That seemed to be the consensus with everyone so far; Hermione included. She knew that Draco had the capacity to be cruel and spineless, but over the last few days she was almost convinced he had said that. Now that she had knowledge of the web of lies that had been spun, maybe the words indicated that he wanted to back out but perhaps couldn't.

She shook the thoughts away. At this rate she was going to dig herself a deeper hole by assuming he said that with no proof. She had to stick to her guns with what she knew.

"See this is another reason I didn't ask Ron to come along," Hermione said, "As much as I love him he never would have been able to disregard his feelings towards Draco to try and be honest with me like you did."

Before Harry could reply, the sound of crunching grass underfoot alerted the two Gryffindors, and they both spun around on the spot to see Draco stood a few feet away. Harry couldn't help but smirk. Maybe the Muggle saying was true: 'speak of the devil and he shall appear.'

"Here's your chance to get some answers," He muttered to Hermione, never once taking his scathing eyes off the blond.

"I will," Hermione said. She stood up and faced Draco, all of a sudden overcome with every single emotion she had felt the night before, almost as if the last ten minutes of the Ball was repeating itself.

"Well isn't this cosy?" Draco drawled with a roll of his eyes. He sneered at her and Harry, and Hermione's heart thumped uneasily. She had a bad feeling of what was happening. Tears began to prick her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. If anything Draco's cold manner was adding more fuel to her fire.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked the Slytherin.

Draco's narrowed eyes scrutinised Harry before flicking back onto Hermione again. He smirked in amusement, but his expression was cold.

"Got yourself a bodyguard, have you? Need the great Boy Wonder to protect you?"

"I can fight my own battles," Hermione said. Her right hand hovered over the pocket of her jeans where her wand was stored. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Not looking for you if that's what your deluded over-sized head has driven you to think," Draco said apathetically, "I just came for a walk, but apparently my spot has been stolen."

"_Your _spot?!" Hermione's voice was rising now. "I think you'll find this is _my _spot, where _you_ found _me_ on Christmas Eve."

If Hermione's vision hadn't been so compromised by anger and unshed tears, she may have seen Draco's mask crack at the reference to that day. He recovered quickly enough.

"And I was considerate enough to not make a comment about it being _my_ spot then," he replied coolly. Hermione tensed with rage, which was quite strange. If they were having this 'spot' debate on any other day, it would be harmless banter that they usually engaged in. But today, it was provoking and unfriendly.

"_You_ want to talk to me about being considerate? Ha. You don't know the bloody meaning of the word," she spat. "A _considerate_ person wouldn't have manipulated me for some stupid little game or competition that they were taking part in, and a considerate person certainly wouldn't have left me alone on the dance floor after having my first kiss with them with no _sodding _warning. They wouldn't have betrayed my trust like that."

Something in her outburst made Draco's frown lesson slightly. "How did you know-?"

"About what you Slytherins were up to? That's hardly the point right now! But whilst we're on the subject how about you fill me in on the details?"

"Now why would I do that?" Draco asked somewhat mockingly. "You're the smart one. Figure it out."

"What the hell do you think I've been trying to do since last night?!" Hermione shouted. It felt good to finally release her fury this way. "Oh and I'll have you know that I worked out that you, Pansy and Daphne managed to manipulate me into agreeing to go to the Ball with you by getting Viktor out of the picture. Now tell me the rest!"

Draco scoffed arrogantly, "Actually, I don't think –"

"TELL ME!" Hermione's hand was clasped around her wand at that point and without meaning to, she sent some unknown curse at the nearest tree, which abruptly had the bark shredded from it with loud cracks.

Hermione immediately released her wand out of shock of what she had done. It fell back into her pocket and she remained planted to the spot, breathing hard and staring at Draco, waiting.

The look on her face made Draco flinch and hesitate before he worked up the nerve to respond. Everything about her demeanour seemed angry; seemed to emanate hatred. But of course, her eyes betrayed her, and Draco wasn't blind to the vulnerability and the hurt within them. She seemed to despise herself as much as she despised him for being unable to forget about whatever feelings she may still have, whilst he hated the fact that it had to come to this.

"Would you like me to be blunt, Granger?" He asked. Her surname didn't feel right rolling off his tongue; it was so informal and distant, but a necessity so he wouldn't lose face.

Hermione winced at how he addressed her. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you. Just don't withhold any information about what you've been up to."

Draco forced himself to stare her in the eye. He smiled unpleasantly at her. "My pleasure." He drawled.

Harry didn't like the sly grin he had. He glanced sideways at Hermione with worry in his eyes. He didn't think she was prepared for this, to her _everything_ so soon, but she was stubborn. There was nothing he could say to change her mind. In some ways, even Harry didn't think _he_ wanted to hear this. Despite how things had played out with Daphne he couldn't deny that he had grown a soft spot for her. He enjoyed her company, so he didn't much fancy hearing how she'd taken him for a fool.

Draco took a deep breath. The wording and how he explained this was everything.

"Well a couple of weeks ago, Greengrass and I became involved in a bet of sorts. In order to win, I had to ask you to the Yule Ball and have you willingly agree to it," he began counting out the requirements on his fingers. "I also had to follow through and actually take you to the Ball, and thirdly I had to stay with you for the whole duration."

"What was in it for you both if you won or lost?" Hermione asked.

"That's hardly relevant," Draco scoffed, "and I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your mouth shut until I've finished."

Hermione's eyes flared. She couldn't help but protest. "It's relevant to _me._ I deserve to know what was worth putting me through all of this!"

Draco swallowed hard and channelled all of the hatred and rivalry he'd felt for Hermione over the last few years to make his response as believable as possible.

"It amuses me that you believe that I give a damn how it's affecting you."

Hermione bit her lip. Maybe she was reading too much into what he said but she really didn't like the fact that he used the present tense; as in, he still didn't care, and never had done.

"But you ki-"

"No._ You_ kissed _me_ yesterday."

Hermione lifted her chin and looked him dead in the eye. "You kissed me back, though."

Draco took a few steps closer towards her so their faces were almost touching. "And why do you think I left you straight after? I'd just impulsively kissed a _Mudblood_. I had to go and wash my mouth out. No bet was worth keeping your filthy germs for two seconds let alone five minutes."

Hermione flinched and a flashback of the night before hit her. She remembered the angry, disgusted expression on his face, his harsh glare, how he recoiled from her and kept saying 'No' over and over…

Without even knowing what she was doing she drew back her clenched fist and punched Draco hard. She was shaking so her aim was a little off; she missed his nose and ended up striking his right cheek just under his eye with a satisfying crack. She immediately felt a sharp stinging sensation shoot up her arm; dammit why were his cheekbones so damn pointy?

Draco staggered back cupping his hand over his cheek. His eyes met hers again. Hermione expected them to be icy and cruel; perhaps even more so than before after what she had just done, but to her surprise they weren't. Her punch seemed to have drained the fight from him. She watched as his gaze moved downwards to her hand. Out of curiosity, Hermione looked down too and saw that her knuckles were bleeding slightly.

"So I'm a filthy Mudblood, hm?" she asked him, bringing her arm up to give him a better look at her hand, which was peppered with red dots.

His eyes widened and he looked as if he was going to say something but she cut him off.

"You're so bloody pathetic if you ever believed that foul name had a literal meaning." With that, Hermione barged past him and stalked off towards the castle. She didn't need to hear the rest of his story about the bet; the requirements of it alone told her that everything had been a lie; the truce, the apologies, the invitation, and apparently even the kiss yesterday.

With her back turned to him she finally released the tears she had been holding back for so long. Draco was just…the same old him again. Just like that. And she felt all of the dislike she hadn't felt for him for so long come rushing back. It was like the last couple of weeks never happened. If only it was just as easy to make her brain feel like that too.

Harry didn't say anything to Draco as he passed him. He just glared and smirked at the bruise that was already developing on his pale face before breaking into a jog to catch up with Hermione.

Her words, the punch, the faith she still had that he must care about her, it broke Draco's resolve. It broke his heart. And that was all he needed for the sense to be knocked back into his skull; the final thing to make him realise his feelings for her had been real all along. The close proximity they just shared made him realise what had been so different about her when she came out of the bathroom at the Ball. She had put lipstick on, and that suggested that she had been planning to kiss him, which made the previous altercation a whole lot worse.

He'd been stupid to think the bet would have made his feelings disappear, and even more stupid to think that pushing her further away would make it easier to deal with.

Pushing her away made it worse. Draco didn't want to hurt her anymore, so he resorted to doing that to coax her into moving on from him; find someone she did deserve. He knew this bet would be the death of him.

"Hermione, wait!" He yelled after her, but she was too far away now. The damage had been done, and she wouldn't hear him. She wouldn't believe him if she _did_ hear him.

Knowing that he may have just pushed her too far this time was possibly just the thing that made his plan successful and make her move on… but Draco hated that. If anything, it suddenly made him want her back and to fix the mess he had created.

However impossible it seemed, he was determined to get back to where they were. A Slytherin did anything to achieve their ends. Draco's attempts today had, ironically, been selfl_ess_, but apparently that didn't work for him so the best way to fix this was to do what he did best, and be selfish.

His cheek really started to ache, so he began to head back up to the Hospital Wing. On the way over there his mind subconsciously began plotting ways he could make Hermione listen to him, let alone trust a word he said to her from now on, but all proved to be useless. He didn't know how, but she had figured stuff out about the bet, and her head was now filled with the false information that the kiss yesterday had meant nothing, when the reality was quite the opposite.

As he reached the castle's entrance, he suddenly remembered that since Daphne had won, he had to carry out his penalty for the bet to be officially over, and that penalty required him to make a public declaration to Hermione about how he felt…

He never thought he'd be happy about having to do that.

* * *

**A minute earlier…**

"Harry, did you hear that?" Hermione whipped her head around back to the lake.

"Hear what?"

"I thought I heard…"

"What, Mione?" Harry asked.

She sighed. "I thought I heard Draco calling after me; telling me to wait." Merlin how mad must she sound after all that had just been said and done?

"Err, sorry Mione but I didn't hear anything."

"Oh, must just be me imagining things then."

She and Harry continued walking for a while when a thought crossed her mind.

"Hey Harry?"

"Mm?"

"You were being _completely_ honest with me before, weren't you?"

"Of course I was!" Harry exclaimed, sounding a bit offended.

"Sorry, Harry, I didn't mean it like that," Hermione explained, "it's just, some of it just doesn't add up with what some other stuff that was said."

"Like what?"

"Well you said that Draco was being different when he was with me; like he was really happy, and I remember the kiss and it certainly didn't feel like nothing; far from it, actually. And just now he said all that stuff about it being just on impulse and it didn't mean anything… the two accounts just don't go together."

"What are you trying to say, Hermione?" Harry asked wearily as they finally reached the warmth of the castle.

Hermione bit her lip. "I'm saying that because you were being honest with me about how happy he seemed, then maybe that means that Draco was…"

"What?"

"Lying." Hermione said. And with that deduction came a horde of new questions that needed to be answered.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N: **So as you can probably guess, the penalty is coming up next :)

See you in a few days!


	21. 30th December (Part 1)

**A/N: **Over 100 favourites - thank you everyone, that means a lot! :D

To address a question from _OuiSexSi, _which I think will be relevant for everyone to know since I kind of overlooked mentioning it in the last chapter (my bad); I kind of decided that the binding spell wouldn't be triggered if someone mentioned the bet to someone else whilst it was going on. Daphne only refrained from telling Hermione a while ago _in case_ it would trigger it (nobody knew what would or wouldn't). In terms of the previous chapter, I guess Draco wouldn't have cared about the risk because he didn't really have anything to lose anymore (sniffle). But yeah, the binding spell was only ever there to keep my options open whilst I was writing this. Hope that clears things up :)

Okay, this is the first half of a split chapter. I'm yet to know if this part is the longer or shorter half as I haven't finished writing chapter 22 yet... oops!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Penalty**

Over the next few days, Hermione made a point to stay out of Draco's way as much as possible, for fear that her mind would become all the more confused the more she spoke to him; not that speaking would be the way she'd go about it, she was still furious with him.

The only problem was that Draco seemed to be everywhere she went; it was like the universe was intentionally messing with them by pushing them together. As Hermione sat venting about this to Ginny, the redhead witch began to grow impatient.

"Honestly Hermione, would you just make up your mind?" she exclaimed, clutching her head as if she had a migraine.

Hermione was startled at her friend's outburst. "Excuse me?"

Ginny let out a breath and let her hands drop to her sides. Then she began to babble. "Sorry. I know how angry you are at him, and rightly so, but you constantly wind yourself up about how he could've lied about the kiss at the Ball meaning nothing but you don't know why he would because he still went through with his bet with Daphne and manipulated you into going with him and refused to be honest with you about it when he had the chance but at the same time Harry said you seem to bring out a better side to him and he tried to kiss you in the Three Broomsticks which could have been for the bet but that doesn't make sense because kissing you was never a requirement and he told you he had no ulterior motive but looking back on it you don't know if that was a lie too since everything that's happened to you seems built on lies but the one thing that seems totally genuine is something you don't even know for sure he said or not, and-"

"For Merlin's sake Ginny, just breathe!" Hermione reached out and shook her friend's shoulders to snap her out of the trance she was in. Ginny's eyes refocused and she started panting, her cheeks were the same red Ron's ears had turned when McGonagall made him dance with her.

"Now just calmly explain what you were trying to say," she said once Ginny's breathing had evened out again.

"My point is that you've been trying to figure all of that stuff on your own, and then telling me, Harry and Ron about it even though we can't give you answers. And the one person who _can_ give you answers is the person you're determined to avoid at all costs!"

"But what if he lies again? How can I trust anything he says?"

Ginny shrugged, "Well at the moment, you're going around in circles so maybe even a lie from Malfoy could give you a fresh insight. Anyway you've said so yourself that he's shown moments of vulnerability and sincerity before – he might surprise you. And if you ask me, he's been trying to talk to you."

"What makes you say that?"

"C'mon, even I have to admit that he seems to be everywhere these days. He might want to talk it out."

"Either that or he just wants to torment me again like the other day." Hermione sniffed.

"Well either way he'll be there. It's your call if you choose to take advantage of it," Ginny said, "Plus if he starts being arse-y you can just punch him again. It's a win-win."

"But-"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "What? You're so stubborn sometimes."

"I know," Hermione said weakly. "I'm just a bit scared you know, of falling for his little mind-games again. I don't know how I'm supposed to be feeling for him. There are things that I hate him for, but then there are things that I…miss I suppose; like part of me still likes him. But then I think that liking him was what made it so easy for him to trick me in the first place."

"Did you like him when he first mentioned the truce and stuff? And I mean 'like' in all senses of the word."

"No," Hermione admitted finally.

"Then your last statement is complete rubbish." Ginny said matter-of-factly.

"Yes Hermione, having feelings for someone doesn't have anything to do with that. It's just the kind of person you are; you're kind and optimistic." An airy voice cut into the conversation.

Ginny looked sideways and groaned, "Luna, you can't just eavesdrop, you know?"

"No Gin, it's fine. I could always use a third opinion," Hermione said.

Luna gazed wistfully off into the distance, apparently having lost interest in the conversation already. Then suddenly, she spoke again.

"My Mum always used to say that there's a very fine line between love and hate," she said absently.

"Love?" Hermione spluttered, "Who said anything about love?"

Luna's glassy eyes refocused. "Oh, nobody really," she smiled, "But today would have been her birthday, you see. I'm just remembering her." And then she resumed her vague staring.

"Oh," Hermione said, feeling a blush begin to stain her cheeks. She chewed her lip. Luna just seemed to have a knack for making such innocent comments without even knowing the torrent of unnerving implications behind it.

"What?" She noticed that Ginny was laughing at her.

"Nothing," Ginny said evasively.

"That so was not nothing! I don't love him, Ginny. That's crazy! Nobody can fall in love in two weeks, and that goes especially for Draco and I, all things considered."

"I know, but that doesn't mean you're not headed that way."

* * *

Draco was being stubborn too. He had quickly realised that Hermione was doing everything in her power not to be in the same room as him for longer than she had to, and because of that, he decided to refrain from carrying out his penalty until she had at least started to look him in the eye again.

He knew he'd inevitably have to do it, but he still refused to do so until she would at least listen. At the rate things at been going, that seemed unlikely to happen, but Draco wouldn't change his mind.

Her minimal presence over the last few days had been strange. It made everything seem normal, as it had been prior to the eleventh of the month when this whole nightmare began. Draco started to feel accustomed to his old routines and the same old conversations with Blaise and the same old sessions of hurling insults at Longbottom; he'd feel almost normal, and like himself again.

But then he'd see Hermione's bushy head of hair somewhere, and the reality of the situation refreshed itself in his brain. He didn't want to admit it, but it had been four days since their argument and he missed her; he actually _missed_ her, though nobody was necessarily aware of that.

The only thing he'd ever really missed before was his broomstick when his Father had confiscated it because Draco kept using it to lift the Manor peacocks onto the roof; where they would fall through the skylights and into their bedroom... not to mention that he did this in the morning so his parent's had had the joy of having a frantic, feathery alarm clock jolting them awake. He had of course, managed to rescue his broomstick a day later, but it had been one of the longest days of his life.

Eventually Draco concluded that snarky interactions with Hermione were better than having no interaction at all. Not speaking to her at all was strange, because they had never _not _been talking to one another; Draco used to speak to her all the time, though to wind her up more than anything else. But still, she had been quite involved with his life before this bet came about, and Draco wasn't about to let her slip through his fingers.

Until now, he had been seeking her out to assess her reactions towards him to see if she'd be willing to listen to what he had to say. But naturally, that had been very wishful thinking, as she seemed to be avoiding him at all costs. Today would be different; today Draco was going to seek her out to annoy her. That was a foolproof way of making her talk to him. He smiled.

"What are you so happy about?" Blaise asked.

"Maybe that punch addled his brain," Pansy said as she filed her nails – or as Draco liked to refer to them – _talons. _She had been very smug about how everything had worked out at the Ball; but after four days of her obnoxious comments it was staring to wear away Draco's patience.

"Parkinson, I swear to Merlin if you don't shut your ugly beak, I-"

"Now, now, Draco, she may have a point," Daphne said.

Draco whipped around to face her, "Are you seriously _defending_ her, after everything?"

"No," Daphne snapped, "It's not defending, per se, but rather, we just so happen to share the same theory."

"Bullshit." Draco declared. Daphne flushed but didn't otherwise visibly react.

"It's possible though," she looked over Draco's shoulder to Pansy and Blaise. "Did you know that four days ago before he left to piss off Granger he was having a hissy fit-"

"I was _not_ throwing a hissy fit!"

Daphne ignored him, "-And then when he came back - after he got punched - he _hugged_ me," she concluded with a shudder.

"Woah, woah!" Blaise smirked, "He actually let you into his personal bubble?"

Daphne nodded, "And invaded _mine_ whilst he was at it. So if that punch hasn't messed your head up I don't see any other explanation."

"Well let's just say that Parkinson shouldn't get too smug just yet," Draco said smoothly, "And that's all thanks to you and your bloody bet, Greengrass."

He could practically see the cogs turning in Daphne's head. It didn't take her long to realise what he was talking about. She had been so caught up worrying about having to kiss Potter if Draco won that she had completely forgotten about his penalty for losing.

"What's he talking about?" Pansy demanded.

Daphne ignored her this time, "Well I appreciate the gratitude, Malfoy, but if you could keep your slimy hands off me next time –."

Draco scoffed, "Next time? Oh no, no, no, Greengrass, I only have a certain amount of manners in my person; only one thank-you per customer."

"I've never been more thankful for you to be an arrogant arsehole before."

Draco smirked and made a swift exit as he began his search for Hermione, which took longer than expected. She wasn't in the library or the Great Hall, and he hadn't seen her around as he walked through the corridors and as he passed the classrooms. The unnerving part was that he felt like he was being followed the whole time, and half-expected her to ambush him.

As he reached the bank of the Black Lake and saw that she wasn't there either, he presumed that she must be in Gryffindor Tower. He turned around to start heading back up to the castle when he noticed quite a few retreating figures in the distance. He couldn't make any of the people out specifically, but it appeared that some of them were carrying broomsticks.

He thought it a bit odd since there was no Quidditch cup this year, but then he recognised Oliver Wood walking by with a large wooden box floating alongside him. It was this sight that led him to believe that if Wood was heading down to the pitch with the balls, then that's where the handful of other students were going, too. He also had a sneaking suspicion that Potter would be there, which in turn meant that that's where Hermione would be. The Quidditch pitch would have been the last place he looked for her.

_Well played, Granger. _Draco thought as he followed the small crowd.

* * *

A brief chorus of impressed mumbles and cheers filtered around the bare stands. Hermione didn't have to look up from her book to know what everyone – meaning about fifteen spectators – was looking at; Harry must've just done one of those Wonky Faint things.

The Gryffindor Quidditch team had again decided to come down here, and Harry and Ron didn't hesitate to come along this time. It had to be kept quiet though, because Harry insisted on practising that 'Wonky' thing, which meant that Oliver had to liberate the balls without permission. Consequently, they didn't want to get caught so only a few students had heard about it. Hermione had tried to protest but her attempts were in vain.

The entire team was currently on the pitch, with Ron standing at the sidelines waiting impatiently for his turn on Harry's Firebolt. In the stands with her were Ginny, Luna, Hannah Abbott, Neville, and a handful of younger students.

"I've just noticed that there aren't any Slytherins here," Luna commented to nobody in particular.

"I don't think any of them would have wanted to watch the Gryffindor team," Ginny said to Luna.

"That's quite sad," Luna replied.

"Is it?" Hermione asked without looking up from her book, "I find it to be quite refreshing."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Still no luck with the egg, I take it?"

"No," Hermione muttered, "There's less than two months until the next task; _two months_!"

"I know, I just wouldn't have thought any book could tell you what the clue is," Ginny said calmly, "Just don't overexert yourself yet. At least wait until Harry figures this egg out before you start researching."

Hermione grunted incoherently and turned the page. She heard Ginny gasp beside her.

"What?"

"Er, let's just say this is no longer a Snake-free zone." Ginny said.

Luna turned her head and smiled vacantly, "I must've spoken too soon."

Hermione already knew deep down who she would see when she turned but she did so anyway.

"Well, well, well, isn't this cosy?" Draco said.

"What do you want?" Hermione snapped.

"Mione, remember what we were talking about earlier," Ginny whispered.

"I don't want anything from _you_, Granger," he replied, "Who's to say I'm just not here to spy for my team?"

"As if you'd do their dirty work for them," Ginny scoffed, "Now come on, Malfoy, we all know you're here to talk to Hermione so-."

"Well then all of you are as deluded as that oaf is about his ability to teach… even after that bloody Hippogriff-."

"For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, just get over yourself and spit it out," Hermione said, turning in her seat and glaring at him. "You wouldn't have started bothering us in the first place unless I'm the reason you're here."

Draco couldn't hide his smirk; finally he was getting somewhere. She was looking at him, not pleasantly, but it was still progress.

"On the contrary, there have been many times I've approached you and 'bothered' you but this is the first time you've been convinced that it's because I wanted to speak to you."

"You've never purposefully looked for me, though," Hermione retorted.

"Can you prove that it was intentional on this occasion?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You two argue a lot," Luna said, "Why is that?"

"I hate him!" Hermione shouted, thus drawing the attention of the other spectators.

Draco's insides knotted up. He was a little perturbed because Ginny was now scrutinising him intently. He turned and glared at her and she looked away quickly and started acting as if she hadn't been looking. She had about as much subtlety as a giant in drag.

Luna shook her head gently, "I don't think you do, Hermione. Not really. You're just angry."

"But, he-" Hermione started to protest.

"Don't disregard my opinions just because it's mine," Luna said; her words were stern but her tone was benign. "I am a Ravenclaw after all." And with that she turned to talk to Neville about the Nargle infestation her house had suffered over Christmas.

Draco was the first to break the silence that followed.

"Well I'd love to say and chat to you lot but I've more entertaining things I could be doing; you know like watching Goyle try to tie his shoelaces."

"What? That's it?" Hermione asked, rising from her seat and facing him.

"You'd be surprised how many simple things Goyle is incapable of doing."

"I didn't mean that, Draco, and you know it. I mean you- you're not going to say anything else?"

"What?" Draco frowned. "You're the ones who assume I came to speak to you for a purpose."

"You're the one who's been everywhere I've been over the last few days!" Hermione shouted.

Draco's voice was low and serious when he replied. "And maybe if you hadn't run away every bloody time that happened then we wouldn't be here fighting right now."

The next thing she knew, he had turned and was heading out of the stands. Hermione immediately manoeuvred her way around some of the spectators to run after him. This inadvertently piqued everybody's interest. It was like a chain reaction; Ginny and Luna followed Hermione in case she would need moral support, Neville followed Luna, as she hadn't finished her story, then Hannah followed Neville because she didn't want to be the only fourth year left behind. The younger students just decided to follow for the hell of it; evidently the potential for drama was a lot more interesting than Quidditch for them.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Ron exclaimed just as Harry dismounted and handed him the Firebolt.

"I dunno," Harry frowned. "Fred, can you see anything?" He shouted.

Fred squinted at the ground and stands from the air before swooping down and dismounting too. "If I'm not mistaken I just saw our Hermione running after a certain blond ferret."

Harry groaned and broke into a sprint to try and catch up with the small crowd that was forming.

"Harry, wait!" Ron called and started running after him. He was torn between feeling disappointed that he never got his go on the Firebolt and somewhat excited that there was potential to see Hermione punch Malfoy again (he was very disappointed to have missed out on the last time a few days earlier).

"Draco Malfoy, you have no right to get arse-y with _me_ about running away, so I suggest you stop right now and tell me what the hell you've been playing at before I _make_ you stop!" Hermione yelled; her hand was poised to retrieve her wand if necessary.

But Draco didn't stop: if anything he sped up. Now would have been the ideal time to carry out his penalty, but he hadn't been expecting it to be so easy for Hermione to suddenly start demanding answers after so many days of avoiding him. It was perfect, really, because she would actually listen. The required amount of students was currently hot on Hermione's heels, but Daphne's stupid rules needed two Professors to be present, which they weren't.

_Dammit!_

Draco's jog slowed into a walk and finally, a halt when he saw Blaise heading towards him with Professors Snape and McGonagall just behind him. The blond eyed his friend suspiciously; had he intentionally brought them here?

The wink Blaise shot his way confirmed this, and Draco's relieved smile faded quickly, and he glared at Blaise.

"Snape and McGonagall?! Really?" He hissed.

Blaise shrugged, "I thought Wood sneaking out the Quidditch balls to the pitch would be a good excuse to lure them here. Snape was the first teacher I bumped into and McGonagall insisted on coming too since it involves Gryffin-jerks."

"How did you know about Wood sneaking out the Quidditch balls?"

Blaise just smirked. It didn't take Draco long to work it out, "You sly git. You're the one who was bloody following me earlier weren't you?"

"Maybe," Blaise grinned cockily.

"How?"

"Disillusionment charm."

The footsteps behind Draco were very close now. "Well right now I don't know whether to thank you or hex you."

Blaise chuckled, "If the 'thank-you' includes a hug like Daphne's was then that hex seems the more appealing option."

"I'll take you up on that offer later Zabini. I think I'm going to need something to cheer me up by the time this is over."

The footsteps had stopped now. Draco took a deep breath and turned around to see Hermione standing before him, with everyone who had been at the Quidditch pitch (including the Gryffindor team) milling around the vicinity.

"Oh so _now_ you want to talk about this?" he asked. "Why am I not surprised that you wanted to be the instigator?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Were you not listening earlier? I've been trying to talk to you for the last few days but you've been completely blanking me."

"Well you can't really blame me for been sceptical about your motives."

Draco sighed, "What do you want to know, Granger?"

Hermione's whole exterior was tensed and hard. Draco may have underestimated how easy this would be or how well this would all pan out.

She glanced around the crowd with a frown. She had half a mind to send everyone packing but in that moment her priority was getting answers.

"I want to know why you left all of a sudden at the Ball," a series of gasps and murmurs rippled around the crowd. She rolled her eyes and carried on, "because I don't buy for one second that the er… _kiss_ meant nothing to you."

Draco wasn't sure whether it would be best to confirm her statement or to dismiss it, so he kept his expression passive. He chanced a glance at the two teachers. McGonagall looked as if she didn't know whether to break up this dispute or just let the two of them sort it out, whilst Snape appeared to be slightly amused.

"Can I just ask what the point is of me answering? Are you going to believe me, or at least consider that it could be true? Because if not then there really is no need to be having this discussion."

He wasn't sure why he was delaying his confession; maybe it had to do with pride because they had a larger audience than was necessary, and a larger audience meant larger embarrassment.

"I can't make any promises," Hermione replied. She looked him in the eye and said, "But either way I think I'm entitled to an honest response."

Draco's heart started pounding in his chest at the imploring look in her eyes. He knew this was it, but he knew once the words were out then a whole long list of questions would pop into Hermione's head, and he didn't feel comfortable having spectators to witness that; the penalty didn't require him to explain everything.

Nevertheless he had run out of excuses.

"I wasn't lying when I said it was because you kissed me… Granger I swear to Salazar that if you interrupt me before I finish I'm going to walk away right now and believe me, I won't be willing to explain again." Draco had seen Hermione open her mouth to protest. It was an empty threat but she didn't know that - anything to make this as quick and painless as possible, and her not constantly talking over him was an integral part of achieving that.

"It wasn't because the kiss was horrible or because you're a Muggleborn. It was just because you kissed me, full stop. Despite my upbringing and everything I'm supposed to feel for people like you… I just can't believe in that anymore. You showed me just as much the other day that 'Mudblood' is just some stupid label."

Hermione's expression softened but she was still eyeing him sceptically.

"And until that point, I'd realised that I'd started to… like you, to the extent where just seeing you smile makes me so sickeningly happy, and being around you is something I've missed since the Ball. We aren't perfect; Merlin if anything all we do is bring out the worst in each other, but that's what makes it great. We've both already seen the worst in each other so we don't feel the pressure to be perfect versions of ourselves, because let's face it I'll never be perfect. In hindsight that's what makes things that have happened so easy, like the day in the Broomsticks. That was the turning point where I finally realised."

Now that Draco had started talking the words couldn't seem to stop pouring out of his mouth; maybe it was because he had been holding all of this back for so long that it would be impossible to stop it.

"And since then, I've been so conflicted in my head. It was difficult for me to come to terms that those feelings were real, but it took one stupid badly thought-through ploy, and almost losing you in the process, that made me accept it. I've never liked the idea of falling for anybody ever, least of all you. But evidently the universe hates me because it bloody happened despite my best efforts of deluding myself to believe otherwise."

Hermione gasped; what he was saying fit in with what happened with Pansy. She knew he was a master liar, but somehow she knew this was genuine. Nobody could improvise this well, especially as Draco was looking her in the eye the whole time.

"I'm not a good person. You know that, and I know that. I don't deserve you –" Hermione gasped again; so he _did_ that the day in the Three Broomsticks after all, "- I've been feeling guilty about this bloody bet for so long, but as much as I wanted to back out, I couldn't because Daphne made us put this stupid binding spell in place that prevented me from doing so. Ideally, I was going to tell you all of this once I won, and start over with you with no lies and manipulations. But you kissed me whilst the bet was still going on, so that wouldn't have been possible. I needed to make you forget about me and find someone you did deserve, someone who wouldn't lie. So I ran, and I'm sorry."

Draco raked a hand through his hair as all of the anxiety he spoke of in his explanation renewed and welled up in his gut. He'd just sincerely apologised to her; he'd never done that before without being completely honest…to anyone.

A tingling sensation ran through his body, signalling that the binding spell had been broken and he was officially free of the bet. A series of 'aw's' and gasps rang out in the crowd, but as predicted, there were one or two people who didn't buy it.

"So you mean to say that you leaving her there was completely selfless? That is the most pathetic excuse I've ever heard." Ron spat.

"That is a low blow, Malfoy. Why not just admit you're a coward instead of lying to her more?" George said in disgust.

That's when Ginny surprised everyone by leaping to Draco's defence. "Shut it, you two! You don't even know the half of what's been going on!"

"Oh what and you do?" Ron asked. His ears were bright red.

"I know more than you." Ginny retorted. "You didn't see the hurt in his eyes just a while ago when Hermione said she hated him. If he was lying just now, why would that affect him so much?"

Draco would have thanked Weaslette for standing up for him if he weren't so focused on Hermione, who had yet to make comment (surprisingly enough).

"Hermione?" He said with a croaky voice.

She had tears welling up in her eyes, and she kept frowning and shaking her head, only to have her expression cleared a second later before cycling back around to the frown. She was clearly overwhelmed by Draco's confession.

"Draco I… what do you want from me?"

"Nothing," he was lying but he didn't want to pressure her even more, "You asked me to answer your question honestly, and I did."

Her mouth stretched into a smile, but Draco could see the thoughts milling through her mind, and her entire demeanour changed abruptly as her suspicions were piqued again. No matter how honest his words sounded, it just wasn't in Draco's character to make such a huge confession so easily – especially with an audience around.

"Oh Godric, the other day you never told me what was in it for you and Daphne if you won… is this your punishment for losing or something?"

Draco's stomach contracted violently. He bowed his head and prepared himself for the chase. "Yes."

Sure enough, Hermione bolted. She would have hexed him if the teachers weren't still hovering in the vicinity of them. She growled in fury and possible confusion and barged right past him, heading for the castle.

Draco caught her wrist but she wrenched it from his grasp in a way that took his mind back to the day in the library when he had prevented Viktor from asking her to the Ball. That same stinging sensation warmed his palm in the way it had done then. He ran after her, the distant sound of two pairs of footsteps in pursuit of him barely registering in his ears.

Once they were both inside, someone behind him shot a spell, which whizzed past his ear and hit Hermione, slowing her movements. She hastily tried to grab her wand to remove it but of course, her arm moved sedately.

"Oh come on!" she growled.

The spell had allowed Draco to gain on her, but then he was hit with the same one, and soon he felt a pair of arms dragging him backwards. He tried to twist his head to get a look at the person, and only got a glimpse of red hair before the strain of the slowing spell was putting too much pressure on his neck and he was forced to co-operate.

He was dragged into what appeared to be some kind of store cupboard. Hermione's protesting squeals suggested that she was being dragged into there with him.

Sure enough she came skidding into the small room via what Draco presumed was the banishing charm. They both got a brief glimpse of the people's faces before the slowing spells were removed and they promptly shut the door and locked it with what sounded like about three different charms.

"Sorry Mione, but you two really need to talk properly about this! Make sure you don't waste this chance to sort things out!" A muffled voice shouted through the door apologetically.

"We'll come back for you in about half an hour," the other voice added. "Try not to kill each other!" They didn't wait for a response before casting a silencing charm on the door.

"What the hell just happened?" Draco asked, blinking rapidly.

A distressed sob brought his attention to the other end of the narrow room where Hermione was leaning against some shelves. Her head was buried in her hands. She felt completely helpless about what she could and could not trust Draco about.

"Look Hermione-" he began, reaching out to touch her arm, but she shook him off.

"Don't. They're right," she sniffed, wiping her eyes, "We need to sort this out. No running away this time."

Draco sighed and nodded slowly. "I know."

Outside, the two people who had shoved them rather unceremoniously in there were leaning with their backs against the door and panting slightly.

"That was quick thinking with the cupboard," the boy said, "I didn't think that was your style."

"Well your slowing spells gave me the idea," the girl replied, "they keep starting to talk and then leave it unresolved; it's for their own good… hey, why are you so supportive of them, anyway?"

"Long story," the boy admitted.

"Well maybe you can come with me to try and find Peeves and then you can tell me."

"Why Peeves?"

"Oh I just realised that this is Snape's store cupboard; we're going to have to distract him."

The boy chuckled, "You know for a Weasley, you're not so bad."

"Thanks for that assessment, Zabini."

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N: **Awkward place to leave it I know; sorry! (But not that sorry because splitting the chapter means it doesn't have to end so soon..)

If any of you happen to be Scorose fans then it'd be great it you could check out my one-shot: Ambivalence. I don't mean to plug but some feedback would be nice as it was my first attempt at writing them.

P.S. Nothing's going to happen with Blaise and Ginny; I just thought that was a cute way of ending the chapter!

[[**Updated AN**]] - Hmm I thought it'd be a bit overkill with having a third Gryffindor/Slytherin pairing but the reviews I've had so far say you guys wouldn't mind :') I'll have a think about how I want to play this out :D

Until next time... :)


	22. 30th December (Part 2)

**A/N: **200 reviews, thank you so much, you're all awesome! So yeah, part 2, here we go :)

Just a quick note, this is the 'official' end to the story. But I've had a few ideas for an epilogue kind of chapter just to wrap everything up, so it's not quite the end, even though it is in the way... meh there's 1 more chapter after this, I guess that's what I'm saying!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Another Cupboard**

"Why are you crying, you got your answers didn't you?" Draco asked Hermione once it became evident that she wouldn't be the first one to speak.

"I know," Hermione sniffed, "It's just too much to take, Draco; all of the lies. I just don't know how much I can believe anymore."

"Are you seriously saying that you think I just made all of that up?" Draco asked incredulously.

"I believed you. It's just that it was all meaningless once it became clear that you didn't say any of that from your own accord; you _had _to do it," she glared.

Draco was breathing heavily. He could feel his temper rising. "Don't start preaching all of that to me; you only know the basics. Stop acting like you bloody know it all because you don't."

"Fine then! Enlighten me," Hermione said as she leant against the back shelves, trying to create as much distance between Draco and herself as possible.

"Let me spell it out for you in black and white-."

"Don't condescend me!" Hermione snapped.

"I'll bloody well do what I like." Draco retorted, "I don't have to tell you this, you know, but I'm choosing to, so save your questions for after."

Hermione rolled her eyes and waited.

"Specifically, my penalty if I lost was to make a public declaration – that being twenty students and two professors – to you about having some degree of romantic feelings for you. And before you get all het up and shrill up again, just take into account that Greengrass got to choose the girl I'd have to ask to the Ball once I'd agreed to the bet and the binding spell was in place."

It did make Hermione feel a bit better that this hadn't originated as a personal attack on herself; Draco couldn't help that Daphne chose her.

"Do you think it was a wise move to agree before you even knew who the girl was?"

Draco sighed, "That was kind of the point; it's a long story. But basically Daphne's aim was to choose someone who would never agree to go with me; someone, whom to her knowledge, I perhaps despised-."

"Charming," Hermione muttered.

"_Anyway," _Draco said pointedly, "That was the specific requirement: 'romantic feelings'. And yet, I went bloody above and beyond that. All of the other shit I said wasn't necessary."

Hermione had the decency to glance shame-facedly at the floor.

"I'm not going to say it all again, Hermione," Draco said, his tone was softer now. "You're obviously still adamant that you don't want to believe a word I say, so I won't waste my breath. But everything I did say was the truth."

"You can't-!"

"-Blame you for being cautious_. I. Bloody. Know!_" Draco took a deep breath. "I think we established how awful I feel about that so stop going over old ground."

"Whatever," Hermione said.

Draco clenched his jaw, "Fine. I may as well just remove these spells and get the hell out of here, since you're obviously determined to act like you don't care."

"That's because I don't," Hermione said matter-of-factly, "You're too bloody complicated, Draco! One moment you're so sincere, and the next you're just so cold and defensive. A prime example of both versions happened just today!"

Draco shook his head and chuckled humourlessly, "You know, lying doesn't suit you."

Hermione bristled, "I'm not-."

"Yes, you are," Draco smirked, "Do you want to know why? All of this is still bothering you, and we both know that if this happened where no amount of caring was involved on both accounts, you would have been pissed at me, yes, and maybe punched me. But then it would have been out of your system because I wouldn't have been worth your time. What's more, if you didn't care, you would have removed the charms on the door and stormed out as soon as we were locked in."

She sighed in defeat, "I'm sorry," she chewed her lip as if in deep thought for a while. "Wait, if you were lying about the kiss at the Ball meaning nothing, then does that mean you were purposefully trying to annoy me the other day?"

"Finally getting it, are you?" Draco smiled solemnly, "Yes of course I was. It was bloody difficult too. I didn't want to hurt you more, but like I said, it was necessary. I'll say this again, Hermione, I wanted to kiss you, but only after the bet was behind me and there'd be no manipulations or lies. But of course, you kissed me. I was just trying to make you move on."

His response totally threw her, "You didn't say that before."

"Did you not hear me through your hedge-hair? Of course I said that."

Hermione shook her head and smiled softly, "Not everything. You never said that you _wanted_ to kiss me."

"Did I not? Oh," Draco bit the inside of his cheek, "Well there you go then. Oh and if memory serves this is Snape's store room so I'm sure there's a bottle of Veritaserum stashed somewhere if you don't believe me."

"I wouldn't steal from a teacher, Draco!"

"Merlin. Only _you_ could make a fuss about not knowing what to believe and still put your bloody morals first when the opportunity to erase the problem is right in front of you."

His tone made Hermione wince slightly. But if he was mentioning Veritaserum out of his own accord, then surely that meant he must be telling the truth. Hermione's shoulders slumped; he must be seething at how much it had taken for her to finally accept it.

"I don't think Veritaserum will be necessary," she said.

"Good," Draco responded.

"I know you meant well, now, by… what you did at the Ball. But Godric's pants Draco you really do make life difficult for yourself."

"Fair point, but at least my plan had been working and it looked like you didn't want anything more to do with me."

Hermione frowned, "Wait. If you wanted me to hate you, then why have you been trying to find me to apologise?"

Draco smirked at the floor before he met her gaze, "Because I realised that I couldn't let you go, and I'd be damned if I didn't set about it like Salazar himself would: I had to do everything possible to set my mistakes right, and be selfish. I know… hell _everybody _knows I don't deserve you, as a friend or otherwise, but I like you. Okay that is definitely the last time I'm repeating that."

Hermione smiled as she slowly allowed her barriers to drop, "Well I know you wouldn't be lying about that. I mean I'm not exactly the most convenient person for you to develop feelings for."

Draco chuckled, "You've bloody got that right. But yes, all of this was the stuff I said I couldn't tell you on Christmas Eve. I was going to tell you eventually, but obviously the bet was still going then."

"Okay," Hermione nodded.

There was a pause before he spoke again. "And you like me too, right?" He gave her a cocky half-smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully, "Oh, and what makes you so sure?"

Draco scoffed, "Well for starters you initiated the kiss at the Ball – your_ first_ kiss - so if you didn't feel the same then why else would you do that?"

Hermione's expression dropped too quickly for her to be able to mask it.

"What?" Draco asked.

When she didn't immediately reply, he repeated the question, but in a harsher tone.

"Hermione what's going on?"

She forced herself to look him in the eye. "Okay, a while ago, Parkinson overheard Ginny and I discussing the Ball and how I've never kissed anyone before. Then she started taunting me about how nobody would ever want to kiss me, so Ginny suggested that I, well, prove her wrong."

Draco's grey eyes flared menacingly. He shook his head and expelled a noise that was a cross between a humourless laugh and a sigh. "Well then, it looks like you're really no better than I was. And you had the nerve to say all that stuff to me."

"I'll have you know that by the time she started goading me at the Ball about it, I was actually feeling really guilty about not considering your feelings sooner. And when it came down to it, despite my reservations about our history and everything that had happened with you kissing _her_ a few days earlier, I wanted to kiss you because I had somehow started to fall for you!"

Hermione began mindlessly ranting to him, determined not to be put onto the same level as his deceitful actions.

"What?" Draco demanded.

"You heard me! Don't you dare think about putting me on your level, Draco. What I did was unacceptable but it doesn't come _close_ to–" Hermione's words were cut off by the feeling of Draco's mouth covering her own. She initially wanted to slap him away and continue to shout at him, but instead she got lost in the feeling and settled on channelling all of the passion and confusion she was intending to convey through her rant, through the kiss instead.

It was different than the one they shared at the Ball. This one was hot, clumsy and raw, and in hindsight, more real than the previous one. Hermione met his lips with everything she had, raking her hands roughly through his soft hair whilst he proceeded to graze her bottom lip with his teeth and effectively caging her in against the shelf by putting his arms on either side of her and putting his body weight onto them.

They were both breathing raggedly as they broke apart, but it seemed to work wonders with releasing all of the remaining angst in their systems. Draco rested his forehead against Hermione's, causing his hair to fall in front of both pairs of eyes.

"Better?" he asked.

Hermione nodded, still feeling a bit light-headed, "Much."

"I know what I did was worse than your thing, but really we could go around in circles if we go back down that road," he linked his fingers with Hermione's, "but what matters is that we both regret our actions, and both of our intentions were genuine in some form."

Hermione smiled, "We're really as bad as each other."

Draco laughed, "If you think about it, we'd never be where we are now if it wasn't for that bet."

"What was that you were saying about going around in circles if we start talking about it again?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, every cloud has a silver lining. That's all I'm saying."

He pulled away from her with their hands still linked and walked around to stand by her side, where he sank to the floor, which in turn, coaxed her to follow suit.

"So where do we go from here?" Hermione asked.

"How about a clean slate?"

"Sounds good," Hermione smiled. "Unless you'd want, um-."

"What?"

"Doesn't matter," Hermione said.

"Were you about to suggest that we… I don't know, put a label on this?" Draco asked, gesturing back and forth between them.

Hermione blushed, "Well it was just a thought. You know considering we've kissed twice now."

Draco clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "I'm going to be honest. I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"I know we like each other, but I've never been in a proper relationship before, and knowing my track record I'll only end up hurting you again or messing up-."

"What and you think I'm the relationship Queen?" She rolled her eyes, "We're both new at this, so hey, we can mess up together."

"And it's so fast. I wouldn't want to do anything until the dust has settled. We both know Potter and Weasley will do everything they can to talk you out of it."

"And do you really think I'd let them tell me what to do?" Hermione laughed. "Once they know everything they'll start to come around…eventually."

Draco pulled a face. "Hermione don't take this the wrong way, but I wouldn't want to jump right into a commitment. Maybe we can start out small, like just meet up on weekends, just the two of us, and see how it goes from there."

"So start seeing each other in secret?"

"See it sounds bad when you say it like that. I didn't mean it like that. It's nothing against you but it's going to take me some time to get used to the idea; we aren't exactly a conventional pairing after all. If we go all gung-ho in the public eye straight away it's going to create a lot of drama, so-"

Hermione put a finger to his lips, cutting him off. "I understand. I like that idea; we'll just see how it goes. No labels or commitment yet. Deal?"

"Hmm," Draco said, sounding unsure.

"What?"

"This is going to sound like a random question, but do you still have the barrette I bought for you?"

"Er, sort of."

"What do you mean 'sort of'?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I kind of smashed it after the Ball."

Draco rolled his eyes, "So bloody violent… what the hell am I letting myself in for?"

"Hey!" Hermione smacked his arm.

"Thank you for proving my point," he smirked, "But anyway, did it still have the central crystal attached to it?"

Hermione nodded whilst frowning in confusion.

"Tell me, over the last few days, what colour has it been?"

There was a pause before she responded, "That's a tough one. Some days it's been really bright, other times the colour has been really pale and occasionally it kind of pulsed," she narrowed her eyes, "Why?"

"Was there ever a time where it was completely clear?" Draco asked.

"Not that I recall. Except the day I first saw it in the shop…wait. Draco what did you do to it?"

"Thank Merlin," he breathed. "Oh I er, may have put a charm on it."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "What kind of charm?"

Draco ran his free hand through his hair, "Okay given everything that we've been arguing about, this isn't going to make me look especially good, but it is linked to your emotions of sorts. If it shows up as indigo, it means you feel something for me, you know, romantically, so obviously I assume that it would turn completely clear if you moved on and felt nothing."

Hermione pulled her hand out of his grip and folded her arms. "I've never heard of a spell that can do that," she said.

Draco smirked, "Come on, Hermione. Don't underestimate me. I did charm all of those 'Potter stinks' badges after all."

"Hmph," replied Hermione.

"So are you angry? Because if you are I'd rather get it out of the way."

"That depends on what your reasons were for putting the spell on it in the first place."

"Merlin is this really happening; you're going to listen to me _before_ trying to hex my balls off?" Draco laughed. Hermione didn't seem amused by his comment.

"Kidding," he mumbled, averting his gaze from hers and thereby missing the hint of amusement tugging at Hermione's lips. "Anyway it was purely for reference at the Ball, since you were not so subtly hinting about wearing it then. Okay this is definitely the last time I'm going to say this, but as you know I was feeling very guilty about the bet, so if the crystal was clear I'd know I could ease up a little and stop stressing."

Hermione frowned, "What colour was it at the start of the Ball?"

"An incredibly bright and vivid indigo," Draco smiled, an air of arrogance creeping into his tone.

"Why did you look so happy then if you wanted it to be clear?"

"I never said I _wanted_ it to be clear," he corrected. "But my life sure as hell would have been easier if it was. However; the colour it turned out to be gave my ego a pretty big boost," he smirked.

Hermione thumped his arm before laughing lightly and interlinking their fingers again.

"Git," she said, almost affectionately. "So why were you asking if it had been clear over the last few days?"

"I think that's pretty obvious," Draco said as he met her gaze. "I know that if this becomes anything then I'd undoubtedly screw up at some point. I consider what happened at the Ball and the bet to be the ultimate of screw-ups, and if you still cared about me through that then I wouldn't feel quite as sceptical or guilty when I piss you off next time or as paranoid about losing or hurting you because I don't deal with those feelings well."

Hermione blushed, "Yes I gathered; you're being awfully considerate and selfless right now. It's a bit scary."

Draco laughed, "I just need to ask one more thing and then I'll be the same old pretentious arse you know so well."

"Okay."

"If we start this 'see how it goes' arrangement, promise me that if there's ever a time before we bring commitment and labels into the equation and that crystal goes clear, I want you to break things off with me no matter how much you don't want to or how fond you've grown of me," he smirked. "Because that would mean that this would all effectively end in tears, as I'll just end up pushing you too far one day. But be warned, that would be your only out. Once anything's official you're not getting away from me so easily."

Hermione smiled, "You're making me promise? That's very… fair of you."

She got the reaction she was after. Draco's face fell into a scowl.

"Don't ever call me anything that can be associated with Powder-puff House. But if you'd like we can make this Slytherin and include binding spells," he joked.

Hermione wrinkled her nose, "I think they've done enough damage to be honest."

"Couldn't agree more. So do we have a deal?"

"It's nice to see that your usual spoiled ways come into practice there: 'you're not getting away from me so easily'," she commented.

"Hey you're the one who got freaked out when I tried to be nice," Draco laughed. "Now just bloody put me out of my misery and answer the damn question."

Hermione bit her lip and sighed. "I'd hate to give Draco Malfoy what he wants but… yes we have a deal."

Before she fully thought it through, she felt herself leaning forwards and pressing her lips to his again. It was gentle and sweet, not entirely dissimilar to their first one in that sense, but in another it was entirely different. This was their first kiss on an officially clean slate, and it filled both Hermione and Draco with a wonderfully fuzzy feeling. She felt him smile against her mouth, and she expelled a light giggle. It was then that the door burst open.

"Oh Salazar's Speedos, I don't want to look at that!"

Hermione and Draco jumped apart, though their hands were still linked. Draco smirked when he saw the horrified face of Blaise and the slightly amused one of Ginny.

"Has it been half an hour already?" Hermione asked. When Blaise raised his eyebrows at her she blushed slightly, knowing very well how her question would have come across considering what he just walked in on.

It was only then that she noticed Ginny was panting slightly. "Not quite, but we had to come and get you now," she puffed. "We sent Peeves to keep Snape distracted but he ended up double-crossing us and telling him he'd been told to keep him away from the cupboard. Snape saw us lurking around and he started following us. So we need to go, like now!"

Draco scrambled to his feet and pulled Hermione up by their joined hands. When they stepped out of the cupboard the corridors were empty, so they walked away with Ginny and Blaise trying to act as natural as possible… well, as natural as a pair from Gryffindor and Slytherin house could look walking side-by-side.

"As happy as I am that you sorted this out, Malfoy, did you really have to do that?" Blaise asked.

Draco chuckled. "Hey you didn't tell us not to kiss. If I recall your only rule was that we shouldn't kill each other."

"Hmph. I suppose you want me to keep quiet about this."

"Naturally," Draco smirked.

Just then, booming footsteps began to sound, and Professor Snape was gaining on them all fast.

"Stop…right there," he drawled in a low voice.

All four of them froze and turned slowly, knowing Snape well enough to understand that even if they hadn't been the culprits of invading his storeroom, he'd somehow find away to pin the blame on them anyway.

Ginny had to bite back a laugh when she saw that the Potions master was soaking wet from head-to-toe, his long black hair sticking upwards in damp clumps at odd angles. Apparently Peeves had had his fun anyway despite ratting them out.

"Sir, you're a bit wet," Draco commented.

"Detention, Mr Malfoy. My office. Now," Snape said.

Draco bristled beside Hermione. "Detention for _that_?"

Snape fixed his black eyes on the blond. "Whilst I found your observation irrelevant and pointless, it is not the reason I am issuing you with a detention. I have reason to believe that you and Miss Granger entered my private stores _without permission_."

"What, but we weren't…" Draco began to protest but his voice trailed off when he looked back down the corridor to see that the cupboard door was still wide open. He glared sideways at Hermione, as she was the last to leave. She wasn't looking at him but appeared to have realised her error, because she was biting her cheek and blushing slightly. If his favourite teacher wasn't berating him right now, Draco might have found her embarrassment quite cute.

"You weren't… _what_, Mr Malfoy?" Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing." Draco mumbled.

"What did you take?" Snape asked.

"Nothing," he repeated. Snape didn't seem to believe him though.

"Come with me. You too, Miss Granger," he barked, turning away. "You may go, Miss Weasley and Mr Zabini, but I will dock ten points from Slytherin and fifty from Gryffindor for your little_... distraction_."

He started walking off. Hermione and Draco had no choice but to follow.

"Unfair!" Ginny stamped her foot and put her hands on her hips. Blaise laughed beside her.

"You're bloody lucky he didn't hear that otherwise he would have taken more away from you."

* * *

A long hour was spent in Snape's office as Hermione and Draco tried to pass off that their time in the storeroom had been against their own will –which technically wasn't a lie – and so they hadn't entered with the intention of stealing anything, a crime, which Hermione learnt, Snape was convinced Harry was behind.

Their story was at the expense of her embarrassment as the Professor found reason to question her true magical abilities due to the door being locked with what he could only imagine were basic charms that she evidently could not break.

After several thorough searches of rampant _Accio_-ing and threats of Veritaserum, he had no more basis for incriminating them of theft, but that didn't mean that he still couldn't punish them for being there in the first place, against their will or not. Suffice it to say, points were taken at a 5:1 ratio again in favour of the Slytherins, and they didn't get off as lightly as Ginny and Blaise had done.

Once Snape finally let them go, he called Draco back at the last second. He groaned and rolled his eyes before skulking back into the room, nodding his goodbye to a rather amused Hermione as he did so.

"Sir?" Draco asked wearily as he approached Snape's desk.

"Tell me Mr Malfoy, what was the purpose of that little show you and Miss Granger put on a little while ago?"

Draco was taken aback. "Is the reason of any importance?"

"None other than to humour a bitter old man," Snape drawled. "Minerva and I were quite astounded by it all, considering that you and Miss Granger don't exactly have a pleasant history regardless of whether you attended the Ball together, which in itself was the prominent talking point amongst the staff."

Draco scowled slightly, "Do you lot not have anything better to talk about?"

"On the contrary the whole thing is rather unconventional. In fact the headmaster wass rather an avid supporter of the pair of you being a couple at the Ball," Snape said.

Draco refused to give him the satisfaction of the truth, but he knew that if he didn't say anything then he wasn't getting away from this office easily.

"You heard what I said to her," Draco said evenly.

"Ah but it still remains a mystery as to whether you spoke the truth."

"You didn't see us hexing and insulting one another once over the past hour," Draco replied, doing whatever he could not to answer directly. He still didn't know why Snape was so interested.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Why are children so difficult?" With a sigh he dismissed a rather bemused Draco, who was once again stopped just before he could cross the threshold.

"What now?" he growled.

Snape smirked slightly, "Mr Malfoy, I will let you go once you assure me that what I'm about to say never leaves this office. If it does then I can promise you that I shan't be so lenient on Slytherin house in the future."

All Draco wanted was to get out of there so he nodded.

"I may be still unaware of your intentions behind your little speech, but as long as you aren't denying the truth behind it then I can assume you are serious about Miss Granger, however laughable that is. But if you are, then make sure you _do not_ screw it up." The words were delivered slowly. Purposefully.

Draco frowned. "Professor-?"

"You are dismissed," Snape turned away from him and set to drying his hair with a hot-air charm and tossing his head once to manipulate it to fall back into its natural position. He was evidently too lazy to use his hands for such a task.

"What the hell?" Draco muttered to himself as he finally left the office.

* * *

Ginny practically tackled Hermione when she entered her dormitory.

"Tell me all of the juicy details!" The younger witch demanded.

"What?" Hermione flushed and averted her gaze "No."

"Why not?" Ginny pouted, "As if it isn't obvious that your two are-."

Hermione threw a hand over her mouth to stop her from saying anything else. The room was otherwise empty but still Hermione thought it was necessary.

"I know what you saw," Hermione said, "but we want to keep this on the down-low. Nothing's official… not yet."

Ginny's eyes widened and she nodded in understanding. It was only then that Hermione released her.

"So technically you are… _dating_," she whispered the last word, "but you aren't official boyfriend-girlfriend yet?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded.

Ginny squealed excitedly and Hermione couldn't help but start grinning madly, despite her friend's deafening pitch.

"Are you sure you can keep this quiet?" Hermione laughed.

"Totally!" Ginny waved a hand nonchalantly. She paused. "Well I'll try."

"I suppose that's as good as it's going to get," Hermione smiled.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

The girls looked towards the window and saw a vaguely recognisable eagle owl sat at the window with a note in its beak.

"Ooooh I wonder who that's from," Ginny waggled her eyebrows.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she let the owl in, received her note, paid it and sent it on its way again (it's not like it could get back to its owner, considering it would have to swim through a lake to do so). She had a niggling feeling that Ginny's excitement on the matter wasn't going to die down quickly, but she was too happy to care at the moment.

She was too happy to even care when Ginny began reading over her shoulder.

'_Hermione, _

_Finally escaped Snape's office, I swear that man is going senile. You have no idea how relieved I am that we sorted things out. It's New Years Eve tomorrow; I was thinking it'd be a good time to get things going._

_Meet me at our spot at the Lake at nine pm. Try not to bring Weaslette with you –"_

"Aww," Ginny pouted again.

"- _And if you can use that infuriatingly good brain of yours to find a way to keep us hidden then that would be useful-"_

"So in other words, he can't be bothered to do that himself," Hermione said. "I need to think of a good excuse to borrow Harry's cloak. Using that with a Disillusionment charm might work."

"-_Draco._

_P.S – Don't forget what you promised me."_

Hermione smiled as she finished reading and headed to her dresser where the broken fragments of her barrette now lay. Ignoring Ginny's desperate pleas to hear about this promise she quickly repaired it with her wand.

Her smile grew wider as she looked down at the accessory, a bright and vibrant tone of rich indigo shining back at her from the centre of it.

Hermione didn't know how, but she just knew that the colour wouldn't be fading any time soon.

And that's exactly what she told him the next evening, right before midnight. Just afterwards, they shared a single chaste kiss as 1994 became 1995. It was well and truly a new start for them, and neither of them could be happier.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for reading! May the last wait for an update of this story commence :)**  
**


	23. 24th February

**A/N: **Well... here we are! My main A/N is at the end :)

So... enjoy the fluff!

* * *

**Two Months Later**

"What time do you call this?" Hermione demanded as Draco sloped into the Entrance Hall from the dungeons. "We need to get down to the Lake."

"It's a bloody hour before the task starts," he muttered irritably, rubbing his eyes. Upon seeing Hermione's slightly hurt expression, he sighed. "Sorry, I know you're worried about Potter but he'll be fine. He's got Weasley with him and more importantly, he seems to have an infuriating knack of staying alive."

"I'll ignore the implications behind what you just said because I really need a hug," Hermione laughed humourlessly before stepping close and wrapping her arms around Draco's waist, who embraced her with no hesitation.

"And because you love me, right?" Hermione could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"That too," she nodded against his chest with a contented sigh as she breathed in his familiar scent. It really did feel nice to finally do this out in the open without having to hide from anyone. When they parted Hermione threaded her fingers between his, blushing as he brought their hands up to kiss her knuckles.

"Come on," she said. The two of them headed for the main doors when someone behind them called to Draco.

"Oi Malfoy!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "What do you want, Blaise?" he asked before he turned around.

Blaise's eyes immediately feel on their linked hands and he shuddered slightly.

"No offence, but I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing you two like this."

Draco shrugged, "That's just as well considering it isn't really any of your business."

The other Slytherin chuckled.

"What did you want?" Draco asked.

"Oh, right. You haven't seen Pansy around, have you?"

"Not since last night. She's probably already at the Lake fawning over Krum."

Blaise frowned. "I thought she was never that interested in him."

"Yes but it's the task today, and I highly doubt she would pass up the opportunity to share his limelight."

"Fair point. I'll head up there now then, see you later," Blaise walked around Draco and Hermione and towards the doors.

"Aw, are you not going to walk with us? Are you too embarrassed?" Draco mocked, laughing when Blaise chose to ignore him.

"You Slytherins have a unique sort of friendship, don't you?" commented Hermione as they started walking again.

"Well there's certainly none of that sissy 'best friends forever' crap that certain other houses seem to promote," he replied with a wry sideways glance down at her, though she didn't notice.

They walked in silence across the grounds, lost in their own thoughts as swarms of chattering students surrounded them. Draco smiled secretly to himself upon spotting several 'Potter Stinks' badges dotted around the crowds, knowing very well that if he said anything out loud then Hermione would hex him without hesitation.

Hermione glanced upwards at Draco and saw that he was biting the inside of his cheek – a tell tale sign that he was in deep thought about something. The constant whispers that had been following them around for the last ten days were becoming too noticeable now, so she decided a little small talk couldn't hurt.

"What's up?"

"I was just thinking about what Blaise was saying," he drawled. "I haven't seen Greengrass around since yesterday either."

"Is that so strange? I thought they'd patched things up with each other weeks ago."

"They did, but they fell out again a few days after. They just haven't been the same since… well, you know. For all we know they _are_ together and we're all missing out on a good catfight."

"Now you just sound like Blaise," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know what an awful piece of work Parkinson is, but that is quite sad that she's lost the closeness with Daphne over something so trivial."

"They're both hot headed; neither were willing to make much of a compromise when it came to apologising. Anyway I'd like to think that it's better this way; they're twice as annoying when they're a combined unit," Draco said.

"Merlin, you're so selfish," Hermione joked, nudging him with her elbow.

"Oh really?" Draco arched an eyebrow and flashed her one of his lop-sided cocky grins. "Well in that case I won't give you your Valentine's present," he pulled out a small gift-bag from his cloak and dangled it in front of her.

"Valentines? Draco we were with each other on that day, or do you not remember? You know, something _big _happened-."

"I know, I know, keep your hair on," Draco smirked. "I did have it with me at the time, but I decided it could be 'improved' at the last minute so I had to hold off for a while."

Hermione narrowed her eyes as they reached the boats. Draco stepped in first to help her get in steadily. They sat on the back seat and continued their conversation as the boat sailed itself to the centre of the Lake where the task would start.

"An improvement?" Hermione questioned. "This isn't like your other 'improved' gift is it?"

"No spell was used on it, if that's what you mean," Draco laughed. "If you don't get it then I'll explain," he said, handing her the bag.

She rummaged through the abundance of tissue paper that had been stuffed in there until her fingers grazed what felt like a velvet box. She pulled it out; the box was fairly large and flat, and supposedly contained a piece of jewellery. Hermione clicked her tongue as a doubtful pang twisted in her stomach. She really wasn't a jewellery person, but she didn't want to hurt Draco's feelings when he'd obviously put a lot of thought into it.

She didn't even realise that she had been absently stroking the lid of the box as the thoughts whirled around her head until Draco's voice brought her attention back to reality.

"What are you doing?"

Hermione blushed and automatically lifted the lid without hesitation, as if trying to cover up the fact that she had spaced out. At first the item within the box looked like a gold necklace, with an oval charm with an engraved cat in the centre that reminded her of Crookshanks. She smiled when she noticed that the cat moved around like wizard photographs, and it had a tiny ruby gem on its collar.

"Thank you Draco -," she began, but he cut her off.

"What do you mean 'thank you', you don't even know what it is yet."

"It's a necklace," she frowned.

"No, you _think_ it's a necklace," Draco smirked. "Take it out of the bloody box and actually look at it properly, will you?"

So she did. She picked the not-a-necklace up and turned the charm around in her fingers, half expecting to find some kind of engraved message on the back, but there wasn't one. Instead her fingers found a small latch on the side of it, and suddenly his words made sense.

"It's a locket," she said.

Draco nodded, "Come on Hermione, give me some credit. I know you well enough to know you'd pick a whopping great textbook over jewellery any day, but I hope this would be an exception because it has some sentimental value to it," he said, reaching across her and unclasping it for her.

Hermione prized the locket open with her fingers with a rising sense of curiosity and anticipation. Her eyes fell onto the left side first. She smiled when she saw a shrunken-down version of one of her favourite photographs. It was of her, Harry, Ron on Platform 9 ¾ after arriving home after their first year. Mr Weasley had been eager to try out his new Muggle camera, and judging by the forced, stiff smile on Harry's face, Ron's amused eye roll and a younger version of herself trying to hold in a fit of the giggles, many failed attempts had preceded the photo in the locket.

She was about to ask Draco how he ever got a hold of the picture in the first place when her eye caught the other picture on the right side.

It was one she had seen too many times to count as of late, but seeing it in the locket now made Hermione feel uncontrollably misty-eyed and happy. It was a moving photograph of her and Draco dancing, looking completely content and lost in each other until there was a flash, and they instinctively jumped closer together instead of further apart and looked towards the camera, sneering at the photographer until it replayed itself.

Said invasive photographer had of course been Rita Skeeter, and the image she had taken was predictably plastered all over _The Prophet _the next day, not that Skeeter received any outrage from Draco or herself, for her 'outing' of them was too little, too late. Draco could only be thankful that his parents had refused to read or even look at a copy of the paper this year since it was very Potter-centric due to the Tournament.

The more Hermione thought about this, she realised that maybe this was why she looked at this picture differently now. It was clearly cut straight from _The Prophet, _but it being encased in the locket made it more private and special, as opposed to when it was printed in the paper for the whole bloody school to gawp over.

"What do you think?" Draco whispered next to her ear, making her shiver.

"Draco this is really sweet. I absolutely love it. Thank you," she quickly kissed his cheek and looked back down at the open locket. "I'm assuming the 'improvement' was the photo of the two of us," she added.

Draco nodded with a satisfied smirk, "I never thought I'd see the day where Skeeter's snooping would actually benefit us. I really ought to thank her for taking this picture; it couldn't have been taken at a better time."

Hermione laughed. "Please let me be there if you do; I'd love to see the look on her face."

"Of course," Draco replied. "Here," he said, taking the locket from her and closing it.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to throw it in the Lake for the Squid to have," he rolled his eyes. "I'm putting it on for you, what the hell do you think?"

"No need to be so sarcastic," Hermione said, turning away from him and lifting her hair so he could clasp it around her neck.

"It's what I do, get used to it," he said as he fastened the chain.

"I suppose I'm going to have to." Hermione toyed with the locket in her hands, laughing when the cat on the front started rolling around on its back to look up at her when she held it upside-down. "But I won't be able to get used to you buying me such expensive presents, no matter how lovely they are."

"Well start practising. As your boyfriend, I'm entitled to treat you," Draco said as the boat docked next to the tiered viewing platforms.

"Yes, remind me how that came about, again," Hermione smiled as he helped her out of the boat.

"I don't need to when you have that picture in the locket," he winked as they entered the growing throng of students in search of their friends before the task began.

* * *

**Ten days earlier…**

'_Happy Valentine's Day! (It's typical that it so happened to fall on a school day this year). _

_Meet me in our usual place at seven tonight? I'll put up the disillusionment charms before then but I'll shoot a yellow spark into the air so you know where I am._

_H.'_

Draco smiled to himself and put the note into his pocket before any nosy people could read it over his shoulder. No sooner had he done that did another piece of parchment float over and land on his desk.

'_P.S – I may be your secret unofficial girlfriend but that doesn't mean Parkinson has the right to drool all over you – quite literally by the looks of it.'_

Draco turned and sure enough Pansy was sat staring at him longingly with big dewy eyes. He hadn't even noticed her until now. She blew a kiss his way when their eyes met and fluttered her fingers. Daphne muttered something under her breath beside her and rolled her eyes.

Ever since Pansy noticed that he hadn't had anything to do with Hermione – to her knowledge, at least - since the bet ended, she had become deluded that he had been using her all along and pretty soon she had fallen back into the same old routine of vying for his attention whenever she could.

Draco curled a lip at Pansy and sneered slightly for good measure. Her mouth fell open and she scowled at him.

He smirked and sent a message back to Hermione.

'_All sorted. See you later._

_D.'_

_._..

'Later' couldn't come fast enough. After the events of that morning Pansy had followed Draco around all day demanding to know what she had done wrong. Draco managed to keep his cool for a surprisingly long time. He only ended up snapping halfway through dinner.

"For Merlin's sake, Pansy, just stop! The fact that it's Valentine's Day doesn't automatically mean I've suddenly developed feelings for you."

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "Why are you being like this? Is there someone else?"

Draco sighed. "I've never had feelings for you. Flirting with you in third year was just for my own amusement and ego, really. I should have made that more clear to you, in hindsight, but that's the truth of it."

He saw Daphne's eyes widen behind her glasses in his peripheral vision. He refused to look at the inevitable triumph that would appear on her face. Her point, the one that had spurred her on to propose the bet in the first place, had evidently sunk into Draco's skull judging by how he handled that situation just now.

Draco glanced at the Gryffindor table, where Hermione was chatting to Harry and Ron about something – presumably the upcoming second task judging by her furrowed brow and stern expression – so that meant it was still quite early. Nevertheless, he didn't think he could cope any more of Parkinson's presence today, so he quickly excused himself and left the Great Hall.

After wandering around aimlessly for a while, Draco was hit with an idea. He headed for the kitchens, and was bombarded with chattering elves as he entered.

"Dobby is so happy to have a visitor, sir!" his former-elf squeaked happily.

"Er, actually I was wondering if you can do something for me," Draco replied a little awkwardly as he basically confirmed to the elf that he hadn't just dropped by for idle chitchat.

Dobby wasn't put-off though. "Of course, sir. Dobby is happy to be helping a friend of friend of Harry Potter."

_Bloody Potter… _Draco thought irritably.

…

Draco and Hermione spent a pleasant hour just chatting and laughing together at the Lake before Dobby apparated next to them.

"You took your time," Draco said dryly as he averted his eyes from Hermione's indignant ones.

"Draco, what's he doing here?" she demanded, pointing at Dobby.

"Here is what you is asking for, sir," the elf said, handing Draco a small object. "Find Dobby when you is wanting to return it." Dobby bowed and disapparated.

"Do my ears deceive me or are you now dabbling in theft as well as exploiting poor, defenceless house-elves?" Hermione folded her arms.

"Did you not hear him? I _am _planning on returning it," Draco smirked. "And frankly I'm not in the mood for another long debate about house-elves tonight. My reason for getting him to help me will make up for the fact I 'exploited him' anyway."

"And what is your reason?" Hermione asked.

"This," Draco said, holding up the object; something that even in the diminishing light, Hermione recognised.

She dropped her arms and shuffled closer to him on the bank so she could see easier. He handed the item to her. Once it was in her hands, Hermione knew immediately what it was, and she felt her annoyance towards him slip away (though it would undoubtedly make an appearance at a later date; he wasn't getting away with this house-elf business do easily.)

"Madam Rosmerta's Walkie-Talkie," Draco confirmed in case she was still unsure.

"Walk_man_," Hermione immediately corrected. She looked up at him and they smiled at each other.

"Enjoy my romantic side while you can, because until the next special occasion you shan't be seeing him all that much," Draco smirked. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Frankly I'm surprised you have a romantic side to begin with," Hermione replied.

Draco stood up and took the Walkman back from her, casting _Wingardium Leviosa _on it to make it float in the air. He held out a hand to Hermione.

"Shall we?"

She nodded and let him pull her up. As they stood face-to-face and linked hands she grew curious about his reasons for re-creating that day in the Three Broomsticks. It had always seemed significant to her because that was when she had started to feel something for him, and she couldn't help but wonder if it had been the same for him, too.

She put up a silencing charm and hit the play button on the Walkman (since he was still clueless about how it worked) and they danced around the small Disillusioned area to the same song they had done that day.

_And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want to know who I am..._

This dance was undoubtedly more fluent than their first had been, and as the chorus played out, Hermione began to really pay attention to the words. They seemed oddly… significant.

"Hey Draco?" she lifted her head from his shoulder so she could look at him.

"Yeah?"

"How are you feeling about us? I mean, um…"

"How am I feeling about stopping hiding from everyone and making this official now?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Apparently the song had made him think about the same thing Hermione had.

"Yes. Everything's been going surprisingly well-,"

"Ouch," Draco laughed.

"I'm only joking, everything has been great," Hermione giggled. "and my barrette has never gone clear and it's getting to the stage where sneaking around is making it seem…unserious."

Draco blinked in surprise, "You think this is serious?"

"Well isn't it?" Hermione countered. "In less than a month we developed feelings for each other. So after two months of frequent secret meetings I think it's safe to say that said feelings have, well, become stronger…"

She really wasn't used to these kinds of conversations so her voice kept faltering and shaking. A wave of relief washed over her when Draco cut across her.

"I know, I feel the same," Draco nodded. "No more hiding. As soon as this song ends, we're an official couple. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Hermione blinked back happy tears that had formed in her eyes.

Draco leant forwards and whispered, "Remember what I said about you not being able to get away so easily once it happens." They both smiled and he kissed Hermione's lips softly before drawing his back straight again.

After that neither of them could seem to look away from the other, which is why they were oblivious to the fact that somebody had stumbled into their hidden area. They were only brought from their reverie when the click and blinding flash of a camera went off, and they jumped closer together and looked towards the source with wide eyes.

"Well well, isn't this cosy?" Rita Skeeter smirked.

Both Hermione and Draco sneered at her.

"Oh, come now, don't be so rude," Rita said. "I must say this is a delicious scoop; son of Lucius Malfoy falls in love with Harry Potter's Muggleborn crush-"

"For the last time, there is nothing between Harry and me," Hermione growled.

"My articles say otherwise," Rita said wickedly as she peered at them through her horn-rimmed glasses, her quick-quotes quill faithfully scribbling away at her side.

"Enjoy your last moments of privacy," she trilled as she disappeared out of the charmed area again, humming to herself.

"Oh we will you old trout," Hermione muttered before finishing her dance with Draco.

* * *

**Present day…**

"Oh Godric where's Harry?" Hermione asked in a panicked voice when Viktor Krum re-surfaced in the Lake.

Draco was about to offer some kind of supportive comment when he spotted Pansy flailing in the water ungracefully, emerging just after Viktor had done, and he burst out laughing.

"I guess that solves one mystery," he said with a sideways glance at an amused Blaise.

"Why the hell did I ever agree to this?" Pansy shrieked as mascara ran down her face. "My hair is _ruined_!"

...

With every minute that ticked by, Hermione became more and more worried. By the time Harry eventually re-surfaced she had been clenching Draco's hand in a vice-like grip.

She squealed when she saw the top of her friend's messy black head, and Draco sighed in relief when she released him.

"I never thought I'd see the day where I'd be actually _happy_ to see Potter," he said.

She was too relieved to pay attention to his words and dragged him down to the bottom level of the viewing platform.

"Who's that with Harry?" Neville asked when they got there, his binoculars set on the spot where Harry was helping someone to swim back. Several students around them seemed more interested in making comments about Hermione and Draco as opposed to Harry but neither of them cared.

"Bloody hell," Draco grinned. "It's Greengrass!"

Daphne and Harry finally reached the platform and were met with an eruption of cheers from all of the Hogwarts spectators. Daphne had a wild and frantic look on her face, and immediately began shivering and whimpering when Pansy held out a hand and dragged her out.

"What the hell were you thinking, agreeing to this?" she yelled. "You're bloody terrified of water!"

"Thanks for bloody alerting the whole school of that, Pansy," Daphne glared, though her voice lacked malice due to her heart beating at what felt like a thousand beats a minute.

"I don't care!" Pansy shouted. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that if I did this then it would help me get over my fear," Daphne said weakly. "My stupid parents…"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Forget your bloody parents, you're the stupid one."

Daphne didn't respond, and focused on trying not to hyperventilate. That's when Pansy shocked everyone around who knew of the bet by throwing her arms around Daphne and hugging her close.

"It's okay," she said softly as Daphne whimpered into her shoulder.

After she had calmed down, the girls separated and shared a small smile. Pansy nodded once at Daphne before walking off in search for another towel to dry her hair.

Daphne turned back and nodded in acknowledgement of Hermione and Draco before she did something that could have just been from impulse, or the adrenaline that still pulsed through her veins, or even just from the relief from escaping her greatest fear. She pushed her way through the crowd, flung herself at Harry and kissed him firmly on the mouth before breaking away, knowing that he had done his best to help her because he was one of the few people who knew of her fear.

He looked utterly stunned when they parted, his green eyes wide and shocked.

"Thanks for saving me, Potter."

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "First Malfoy and now Greengrass? I don't think I can take any more Slytherins."

"Don't worry Weasley, this is a one-off thing," she said before sharing a secret smile with a disorientated Harry and turning back towards an open-mouthed Hermione and a bemused Draco.

"Need I point out the irony in what just happened, Greengrass?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No," Daphne said firmly.

"Why did you do that?" Hermione asked.

"I have my reasons," she snapped, though the fight drained from her when she saw the way Draco's arm was flung around Hermione's shoulder and how hers was wrapped comfortably around his waist. "And I figured that if you two have the capacity to not give a damn what anyone thinks about you then I could so the same thing."

...

After everyone had sailed back across to the school grounds again, Harry and Ron invited Hermione up to the Gryffindor common room for a celebratory party. She hesitated before responding and chewed her lip, eyes darting uncertainly between Draco and her friends.

"Go on," Draco said. "Come and find me later. I'll be-,"

"At our usual spot," Hermione finished with a smile. "Are you sure?"

"Well I hope Potter and Weasley know that if I have to compromise sometimes then so do they," Draco said with a pointed look at them. He kissed the top of her head. "Go on."

"Draco-,"

"Dammit Hermione, if you keep protesting then I'll change my mind and demand that you stay with me."

"But-,"

"You have your new locket to look at in case you miss me too much," he smirked. Then he bent his head forwards and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I love you," he said softly.

Hermione blushed as much as she did the day he had first said those words. "I love you too," she replied.

"Good," he laughed.

Hermione smiled as she walked away with Harry and Ron. She fingered her new locket and found herself opening it almost immediately.

She looked at that photograph of the two of them dancing until she had every detail about it memorised. With a sigh she forced herself to admit that Draco had been right; maybe that whole fiasco with the bet had really been a blessing in disguise. It was funny how life worked itself out sometimes.

_The End._

* * *

**A/N: **Well, that's it. I can't believe it's over, but I've loved writing this and when I started I had no idea it would end up being over 100K words.. oops! :D

Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who's read, reviewed, followed and favourited this story - it really means a lot. I never imagined to have such great response to it. Have a Butterbeer and/ or Firewhiskey on me! I have to give a special shout-out to _OuiSexSi, _who has reviewed every single chapter, but seriously much love to everyone :')

I do have a couple of new ideas for Dramione multi-chaps brewing, and I know that some of you are requesting a sequel, which I haven't really thought about that much but it's definitely something I'd consider if there's a high demand! Things are quite hectic at college at the moment, so it will be a while before I post a new multi-chap, but I do plan on writing another as soon as my ideas flesh out a bit more!

In the mean time I'd love you to give me an idea as to what kind of story you'd like to see next, be it a sequel to this or just a genre I can work with: would you want fluff, or angst, or fluff &amp; angst like this story was, or even hurt/comfort? (It would help me narrow my options down so I know which idea to take forward).

Thanks guys! You're all awesome.

Amy x

**[UPDATED A/N:] **I have decided on a plot I'm going to take forward with the help of all of your lovely suggestions. I can't say for sure how long it will be until I start publishing but watch this space!


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